The Golden Quartet - Year Seven
by September And Summer
Summary: Amara Matthews is skipping out on her seventh year at Hogwarts to help defeat the Darkest Wizard. Along with Harry, Ron and Hermione, they're off to hunt Voldemort's Horcruxes and destroy them in any way they can. But she's leaving behind her family, her boyfriend and her friends, with the risk of not returning at a very high percentage. A rough ride is in store for them all. 7/7.
1. The Beginning of the End

**_A/N_ Hey guys. To all who are returning to see Amara's seventh year: thank you so much for sticking by me through these, what, three years? And to those just joining: thank you for even coming along to see what it's all about! I haven't got much of a buffer at _all_ with this book. I am just going to enter (tomorrow) my second year of college (in the UK - so it's A Level year) and it means that I will want to focus on my studies so I get into University. So bare with, because it will probably be slow going, but I am determined to get Amara's stories finished, because I feel she deserves it. I have got the second chapter ready, but will probably try and get a chapter out every one/two weeks. Though this will, most likely, change quite a lot, mainly because I'm trying to focus on my own stories. But FF has been so good for me, I'm going to stick with it. Anyway, please enjoy the first chapter of the last book: The Beginning of the End. - September and Summer xxx**

 ** _Chapter One_**

 ** _The Beginning of the End_**

Amara Matthews stared glumly out of the window of her attic-converted bedroom. It had been a week and a half since Albus Dumbledore's funeral on the Hogwarts grounds and Amara was reading an article in the _Daily Prophet_ by a man named Elphias Doge, which had just come out that day:

 ** _ALBUS DUMBLEDORE REMEMBERED_**

 ** _BY ELPHIAS DOGE_**

She had been reading the newspaper for a while, mainly to get rid of the growing fear inside her but also to see what was being said by the greatest wizard she had ever known.

 _'…_ _When Albus and I left Hogwarts, we intended to take the then traditional tour of the world together, visiting and observing foreign wizards, before pursuing our separate careers. However, tragedy intervened. On the very eve of our trip, Albus's mother Kendra died, leaving Albus the head, and sole breadwinner, of the family. I postponed my departure long enough to pay my respects at Kendra's funeral, then left for what was now to be a solitary journey. With a younger brother and sister to care for, and little gold left to them, there could no longer be any question of Albus accompanying me. That was the period of our lives when we had least contact. I wrote to Albus, describing, perhaps insensitively, the wonders of my journey from narrow escapes from chimaeras in Greece to the experiments of the Egyptian alchemists. His letters told me little of his day-to-day life, which I guessed to be frustratingly dull for such a brilliant wizard. Immersed in my own experiences, it was with horror that I heard, towards the end of my year's travels, that yet another tragedy had struck the Dumbledores: the death of his sister, Ariana._

 _Though Ariana had been in poor health for a long time, the blow, coming so soon after the loss of their mother, had a profound effect on both of her brothers. All those closest to Albus - and I count myself one of that lucky number - agree that Ariana's death and Albus's feeling of personal responsibility for it (though, of course, he was guiltless) left their mark upon him forever more._

 _I returned home to find a young man who had experienced a much older person's suffering. Albus was more reserved than before, and much less light-hearted. To add to his misery, the loss of Ariana had led, not to a renewed closeness between Albus and Aberforth, but to an estrangement. (In time this would lift-in later years they re-established, if not a close relationship, then certainly a cordial one.) However, he rarely spoke of his parents or of Ariana from then on, and his friends learned no to mention them._

 _Other quills will describe the triumphs of the following years. Dumbledore's innumerable contributions to the store of wizarding knowledge, including his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon blood, will benefit generations to come, as will the wisdom he displayed in the many judgements he made while Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. They say, still, that no wizard duel ever matched that between Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald in 1945. Those who witnessed it have written of the terror and the awe they felt as they watched these two extraordinary wizards do battle. Dumbledore's triumph, and its consequences for the wizarding world, are considered a turning point in magical history to match the introduction of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy or the downfall of You-Know-Who._

 _Albus Dumbledore was never proud or vain; he could find something to value in anyone, however apparently insignificant or wretched, and I believe that his early losses endowed him with great humanity and sympathy. I shall miss his friendship more than I can say, but my loss is as nothing compared to the wizarding world's. That he was the most inspiring and the best loved of all Hogwarts headmasters cannot be in question. He died as he lived: working always for the greater good and, to his last hour, as willing to stretch out a hand to a small boy with dragon pox as he was on the day that I met him.'_

Amara sniffed a little at the end of the article. She had never known that Dumbledore had had a sister – she had heard him mention his brother, Aberforth, before, a long time ago, but other than that she had known little of his life except his achievements.

It was July. Amara had not told her parents her plan for them, nor had she told them she was going away and may never see them again. She had not told Fred, her boyfriend, or Tally, her cousin, or Jesse, Tally's brother, and from what she had heard from two of her best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, they had not told them either.

She knew she was going to be leaving for the Burrow in four days' time. Fred was picking her up and her family had to be out by then. She had contacted her Uncle Louis, in France, and he had agreed with her plan.

She was going to send her mother, her father, her fifteen-year-old brother, Ethan and her thirteen-year-old sister, Tessie, to France, to live with her mother's sister, who was a muggle, and her husband, a wizard. Tally was also going back, but not until Beauxbatons started in September. Until then she was staying at the Burrow with her boyfriend, Ron. Hermione had not told Amara her plans for her parents, but she knew that she was arriving at the Burrow the day after her.

Amara did not like the idea of forcing her parents away to France, to stop them doing their jobs and to stop Tessie and Ethan from going back to Hogwarts. But she knew it was too dangerous. They knew too much about her final best friend, Harry Potter, and could be found by Death Eaters. And being Muggleborn witches and wizards did not help. But Amara knew they would be safe with Louis and Elisabeth, and hopefully Tessie and Ethan would be able to study once out there.

Amara herself was going on a hunt for Horcruxes with her friends Harry, Ron and Hermione, to defeat Lord Voldemort. It was a dangerous task and Amara couldn't say she was looking forwards too it. It had only been a week since Dumbledore's death after all.

She had had a letter from Ron the day before explaining some very surprising events:

 _Amara –_

 _Tonks and Lupin got married today. It was quick and not many people were allowed to attend. Wish you, Harry and Hermione could have been there, but we couldn't exactly send out invites. Don't tell anyone else, though, especially Harry, as his owls might be intercepted._

 _Ron_

Amara had been surprised by the sudden rush, but was happy for Tonks and Lupin. They deserved to be happy and be together, eventhough they were in the midst of a war.

Amara placed the _Daily Prophet_ on her nightstand and hopped off her bed. She heard her mother calling for her, and, wondering what she wanted, she went down the stairs. She met Ethan on the landing. He was now a head and shoulders taller than her and liked to revel in the fact. He also was looking rather charred around the edges.

"My potion exploded," he said sheepishly.

"Were you experimenting again?" asked Amara.

"Yeah," said Ethan. "But it's progress!" he added defensively. "At least it didn't singe my eyebrows off this time!"

Ever since he had returned from Hogwarts, Ethan had been in his room much more than usual fiddling with his potions. Amara thought it was to take his mind off what was happening.

Amara's mother was standing at the foot of the stairs waiting for her.

"Adrien's here to see you," she said.

Adrien Page was Jesse Reynold's best friend. He was also a good friend of Amara, who saw him as a brotherly figure, and her family, and he had lived in England for two years, ever since he left Beauxbatons.

"Did you do the security questions?"

"Of course," said Mrs Matthews crossly, and walked off into the kitchen. She too had been more irritable lately, as she knew something was going on, but Amara wasn't telling.

Adrien was in the lounge, sitting in one of the chairs, looking unusually stern. When Amara walked in, he jumped to his feet and walked across the room.

"Jesse would have come but he's with Hermione sorting out things," said Adrien immediately. Two years after arriving, his French accent had disappeared. "Have you told them?"

"No," said Amara.

Adrien groaned. "Amara, you _have_ to tell them you're leaving and that they need to hide!"

"I know," said Amara.

"Are you going to tell us what you're doing?"

"Definitely not," said Amara.

Adrien scowled at her whilst sitting back down on the armchair and poked the armchair rather viciously.

"You're insufferable sometimes, you know that, right?"

Amara grinned at him.

Adrien sighed and sunk lower into the armchair he was sitting on.

"Adeline wrote to me the other day," he said.

"Really?" said Amara, sitting down on the chair opposite. She had only met Adeline Page once, when she was in her second-year, and only knew she was in the same year as Noah Reynolds and currently working in a robe designer. After two years away from his sister, Adrien did not seem to miss her that much, and considering she was rather annoying, Amara didn't blame him.

"She got a promotion," said Adrien, sighing. "And Noah went over to visit her as well."

"I haven't seen Noah in years," said Amara. "He's always away studying animals – like Charlie, I suppose."

"Him and Jesse met up a few times, and Tally obviously sees him in France quite a bit. He seems to like America though, but apparently he wrote to Charlie asking about Romania – oh and he's coming to the Wedding too."

"That's good," said Amara. "I'd like to see him again."

There was a break of conversation as Amara stared at the floor, knowing that Adrien was staring at her, trying to make her tell her family.

"I'm not leaving until you tell them," said Adrien sternly.

" _Fine,"_ said Amara, glaring at the French boy. "They're not going to like it."

"Neither do you, and nor do I," said Adrien, smiling sadly. "But it's safe."

Amara took a deep breath and sighed.

"Come on then," she said, getting to her feet. "I think everyone's in the kitchen anyway."

Sure enough, the whole Matthews family were sitting at the table together, and Amara very nearly backed out again, seeing them so happy, but Adrien was behind her and he pushed her forwards.

The two of them sat down at the table.

"Erm," said Amara and everyone seemed to stop talking and look at her. Ethan and Tessie seemed to have a knowing look in their eyes.

"What's wrong?" asked Mrs Matthews. Amara supposed her face had gone rather white at the prospect of making her family leave.

"I have to tell you something," said Amara slowly.

Adrien kicked her ankle to make her hurry up.

"I – well, you all know about Harry, and about You-Know-Who," said Amara. "But the thing is, now that Dumbledore's dead …" Amara winced. "It's going to get worse. I've stopped giving you the _Daily Prophet_ for a reason – it's getting worse and the dark side are getting stronger. And … it means you – all four of you – are in danger. They don't like muggleborns, and they don't like muggles. They know who I am and can track you down very, very easily. It's only a matter of time before they do – and before they try and take over completely. Which is why I contacted Uncle Louis." Amara took a breath, staring hard at a point on the table. "You have to move to France for the time being, so that you're all out of harm's way and can't – won't be … Uncle Louis can protect you, considering you can't do magic, Mum and Dad, and you two are not of age. He's agreed to it, and their house is big enough, and Tally will go back to France too once the summer's over, and maybe Jesse will go for a little while. It's the only thing I could think of without putting you into hiding. I know that Jesse and Adrien put protective spells around the house but they're not going to be strong enough. You have to leave."

Amara risked looking up and saw her parents and sibling's white faces. Her mother's eyes were filling with tears as her lip trembled.

"What about you?" asked Mr Matthews shakily. "You're in danger too."

"I know," Amara said heavily. "But – there's something Harry's got to do, and I'm going with him – and Ron and Hermione. I can't tell you what it is but it'll hopefully save everyone. I'm sorry, I have to do this."

"We understand," said Mr Matthews quietly. "But – are you sure you can't come?"

Amara struggled with herself, trying not to cry. She had to be strong for her family, to show she was doing the right thing.

"Yeah – I promised and I have to, I'll be alright with Harry, Ron and Hermione," said Amara. "It's you guys I'm worried about."

"Louis will look after us," said Tessie confidently. "And the Death Eaters wouldn't go over to France, would they?"

"I wouldn't think so," said Amara.

"So you're not going back to Hogwarts?" said Mrs Matthews. She too had blinked back her tears.

"It's too dangerous now," said Amara seriously. "especially now Dumbledore's gone …"

"Too dangerous for Tessie and Ethan?"

"Definitely," said Amara, nodding. "We're muggleborn."

"When are you leaving?" asked Mrs Matthews. "I guess you didn't tell us before because – well, it was too hard?"

"Yeah," said Amara. "And … I'm leaving for the Burrow in four days. And you, you guys have to be out by then."

Mr and Mrs Matthews blinked.

"We have four days to leave?"

Amara nodded. "I've booked the plane tickets and told your work that you're going on an extended holiday."

"So you did everything but tell us until _three days beforehand?"_

"She found it hard," butted in Adrien and Mr and Mrs Matthews turned to look at him. "I forced her to tell you now."

Mr and Mrs Matthews sighed.

"Well we better get going then."

-OOOOO-

On the fourth day of packing up the house, Amara found herself standing in her bedroom with a rucksack in one hand and her wand in the other. The rucksack, with some research by Amara, had an undetectable extension charm on it, had everything she needed for the Burrow. This meant clothes for all weathers (jumpers, scarves, jeans, tops and jackets) various books that Amara thought would be useful, her clothes for the wedding, a supply of tricks and joke objects that could come in handy on the run and other magical items. For old time's sake, she had packed her Gryffindor scarf and gloves too. She'd put a sleeping bag in it as well, along with a few mugs, teabags, coffee and other things that wouldn't go bad too quickly like tinned food that her mother had shoved on her before she left. She'd let Archimedes out of his cage and sent him to France and had given Alfred, her pygmy puff, to Tessie to keep safe. She'd charmed him to look like a doll so that he could be taken on the aeroplane.

Her school things, like her robes, her hat, cauldron, broomstick, books, telescope and potion supplies were in her trunk, which had been properly cleaned out, at the end of her bed. Her cupboards and wardrobe had been cleared out of clothes, and her small bathroom was now void of everything but the things built in.

Her room, minus a few personal touches remaining, was bleak and bare, and the neatest it had ever been.

With a sigh, Amara took one last look around her bedroom, shouldered her rucksack and left the room. Walking slowly down the stairs and onto the landing of the first floor, Amara noticed a flurry of movement coming from Ethan's bedroom. Ditching her rucksack on the floor, she walked over and entered her younger brother's bedroom.

It had turned into utter chaos. Gryffindor scarves, hats, flags, rosettes littered the floor along with his robes, shoes, shirts and trousers and a good too many books. His bed was occupied by his school trunk, which was what he was taking to France with him. Ethan had wanted to take everything, but Mr and Mrs Matthews had shouted him down as they only had a limited amount of stuff they could take.

"Having trouble?" Amara asked the tall boy, who was currently crouched over a stack of wizard magazines, obviously stolen from Edward McKenzie, his best friend at Hogwarts. Amara could make out the title _Lawrence Ludwigs, a Potioneer Prodigy._

"Even your magazines are potion based," said Amara. It was true: Ethan excelled in Potions. It was his favourite subject, and he was forever altering different recipes to suit him and make the potion better, whereas Amara's favourite subjects were Transfiguration, Charms and Ancient Runes, and Tessie's favourites were Defence Against the Dark Arts and Astronomy, and if she had had the chance, Care of Magical Creatures. "Careful, you'll turn into Sn-" Amara managed to catch herself just in time.

Ethan had not noticed her slip up. Instead, he turned around and offered the magazines at her.

"What do you think? Shall I bring these?" he asked.

Amara shrugged. "It's your choice – what have you got so far?" she walked over to his trunk and peeked inside.

"Ethan! You haven't got any clothes in here!"

Ethan wandered over too. He looked into his trunk, which was filled with bottles labelled with different potions, different ingredients and his fancy cauldron he'd brought last year.

"How do you make all these?" Amara asked, picking up a bottle of Pepper-Up potion.

"Whilst you're saving the world, I do this," Ethan replied, taking to bottle off her and placing it back in his trunk. "Anyway, I have some to give to you."

Amara was rather touched, and was quite shocked when Ethan produced a box from under his bed. He opened it and inside were a good many bottles.

"There's just some Pepper-Up Potions, Blood-Replenishing Potions – some Skele-gro (I got that off Madam Pomfrey, to see what ingredients are needed) one that heals burns … reviving potion …and some, some poisons."

" _Poisons?"_

"Well, you never know," said Ethan hastily. "And considering you're off gallivanting in the wild to do goodness knows what, it may come in handy."

"But – you didn't _brew_ them did you?" asked Amara tentatively.

"No," said Ethan.

"Then –"

"I stole them," said Ethan darkly. "From Snape's stores, after he'd gone. He shouldn't have had them in the first place."

"We got taught them in fourth year …" Amara said absent-mindedly.

"Still," said Ethan. "I don't know why he still had a store of stuff – it's not as though he was potions Professor anymore."

"Why didn't you go into Slughorn's supplies?"

"His?" scoffed Ethan. "There was nothing in that which would have been useful."

Amara eyed him. "You could have been a Slytherin, you know."

Ethan laughed slightly. "Scary, huh?"

"Definitely," said Amara. "But, thanks for the potions, they'll definitely help."

"I hope you don't have to use them," said Ethan seriously.

"Me either," said Amara. "Do you want some help packing?"

"I'm alright," said Ethan. "I'm just going to empty my draws of clothes now. I'll take some books too, I think."

"Good idea, I'm going to go help Tessie," said Amara.

She took the box of potions and put them in her rucksack before going into Tessie's room. Previously pink, it was now scarlet and very, very Gryffindor. Some posters, wizard and muggle, had been taken down from the walls and Tessie was seen rolling them up.

Her hair was as scruffy as ever, and she till wore her headscarf as a headband. Amara did think it suited her, however.

"Have you finished?"

"More or less," said Tessie, who hadn't even flinched when Amara had announced her unexpected presence. "Just adding the final bits."

Amara noticed Tessie's trunk was very full, and her room was rather bare, like her own.

"I couldn't leave anything," said Tessie. "I don't want to."

"I know," said Amara heavily. "I'm sorry for making you do this."

"S'not your fault," said Tessie. "But I really wish I was going back to Hogwarts. I was going to go to Hogsmeade this year."

"You'll have a chance," said Amara. "For sure."

Tessie nodded and resumed her rolling. Not wanting to disturb her, Amara left the room.

-OOOOO-

Amara stood in the lounge facing her family, whilst Jesse and Adrien stood waiting in the hall. It was time to say goodbye, and Amara was not ready.

Mrs Matthews had already burst into tears, and Mr Matthews had his arm around her. Tessie looked on the verge of tears and Ethan couldn't keep his eyes still to stop himself from tearing up too. Amara, who wanted to show that she was strong enough to do this, was fiddling with her charm bracelet,

Mr Matthews said goodbye first. He gave her a Dad hug and held on for a good few minutes.

"You look after yourself out there," he said gruffly. "Be brave – show them what you're made of. And you can always come to France." He leant back and put some of her hair behind her ear. "We'll see each other again."

Amara tried not to blubber when Ethan and Tessie said goodbye next, both of them hugging her tight and telling her to stay alive and save the world. Then it was just her mother.

She had reduced her tears to sniffles as she flung her arms around her daughter. She had no words, instead she poured her emotions into the hug and Amara couldn't help but let some tears slip. But then the warmth of the hug was gone and Jesse and Adrien were leading them out the door and into the car.

Adrien paused in the doorway.

"Fred'll be here soon, stay safe and see you later," he said before leaving the doorway and getting in the car. Amara waved from her place by the door until the car drove away. She shut it carefully and locked it.

It was then when the tears came, and she sank down onto the wall and crouched on the floor. Her family was gone and she didn't know when she'd see them again, if ever. She was going on a trip but they didn't know _where_ and Voldemort was getting even stronger.

Amara stayed in the position on the floor until a warm set of arms wrapped around her and she flinched back. Looking up, she saw the warm brown eyes of Fred Weasley staring back at her, concern etched in his usually smiling face.

Without bothering to do the security questions, Amara cried into the front of his shirt, and he hugged her tightly.

After five minutes Amara was cried out and she retracted herself from his arms and rubbed her face. Fred stayed on the floor with her.

"Let's get you home, huh?"

Amara nodded. "I'll just go to the bathroom," she sniffed. "My stuff's in the living room."

She went into the downstairs bathroom and saw her reflection in the mirror. Her face was red and blotchy and she scowled at it. She pressed a wet flannel onto her face before getting out her wand and fixing herself up again. She didn't want the rest of the occupants in the Burrow to see her like that.

She returned to the living room and found Fred next to her rucksack. He seemed confused.

"You're seriously only taking this?"

Amara nodded. "I put an extension charm on it," she said.

"Ah that explains it," said Fred, nodded as he shouldered the rucksack. "Right, we better get going, Mum'll go crazy if we're late."

"We never did the security questions," said Amara as she went and stood next to him.

Fred nodded and a light frown appeared. He then grinned and leant down to kiss her rather passionately, with his arms around her waist. Amara blinked when he pulled away.

"Well, I guess that answers it," she said, grinning slightly. "We'll have to apparate outside, won't we?"

"Jesse lifted the charm so I could get into the house," said Fred. "He'll put it back when he gets back."

Amara nodded then held Fred's hand. He turned on the spot and they disappeared – the last vision of Amara's house fading quite suddenly as she was pressed into the familiar suffocating feeling of Apparation.

They appeared just beyond the gate of the Burrow and Amara had barely got her surroundings back before Fred started pulling her through it.

"George and I took the day off," said Fred as they walked. "And tomorrow. Just when everyone's arriving."

"Won't it hurt the business?"

"Nah," said Fred. "Anyway, it's not getting any busier at the moment … not with …" he frowned before grinning again. "You're worth it anyway."

Amara grinned a dazzling smile in his direction as they got closer to the Burrow. Fred stopped before they got their and put his arms around her.

"I have to do this before we get inside – you know what Mum's like, and with the Wedding, well, it's crazy in there at the moment."

Amara giggled as Fred leant down and kissed her on the lips. Amara responded back with enthusiasm as she was able to forget that her parents were gone – she was merely visiting the Weasley's in summer …

"Dear Merlin get a room," came the sound of George as Fred and Amara continued what they were doing.

Amara and Fred broke apart and saw a smirking George looking at them with crossed arms, with Ron and Bill behind him. Bill was grinning but Ron looked faintly disgusted.

"Fred she's like my sister – don't _do_ that when I'm around," he said. Amara laughed as Fred grinned.

"This was empty before you prats showed up," said Fred.

"We were hoping there was more to go around," said George and Ron groaned before punching him on the shoulder.

"Shut up George!"

Amara was laughing fully now, and with Fred's arm around her waist, they joined the boys and walked towards the house, not before she gave them all a hug. George was very disappointed.


	2. Ron's Idea

**_A/N Thanks to everyone who's reviewed/followed/favourited this story so far. Much love!_**

 ** _Chapter Two_**

 ** _Ron's Idea_**

Mrs Weasley, Ginny and Tally were there to greet them inside, and Amara was rather fussed over as Fred took her rucksack upstairs to Ginny's room. George had gone to 'help' him, which meant he was asking about what they were doing in the yard.

"Did it go alright?" asked Ginny as Amara was seated on the table. Fleur had entered the room and had immediately gone to her fiancée. Bill, whose face was still scarred from his fight from Fenrir Greyback had no effect on Fleur's love for him. In fact, it seemed she was even more affectionate than she had been before. Amara, however, still got twinges when looking at Bill, due to the close shave she had had with the werewolf herself. If she hadn't have had Harry's Felix Felicis potion during the Battle, she may have been a lot worse off than two scratches. Amara, at the time, had not told Fred of her predicament of the scratches, but Ron, feeling like the 'best friend' in the matter, decided to take it on himself and tell him. It resulted into a loud talk (at the end of which Amara and Fred had reconciled).

"Yeah," said Amara slowly and quietly (as Mrs Weasley gave out mugs of tea). "Jesse and Adrien took them to the airport."

Ginny nodded as Tally patted her arm.

"They'll be alright," said Tally, smiling. "Anyway I'll be joining them later on in July."

"That's true," said Amara and she smiled, just as Fred and George bounded back down the stairs into the kitchen.

Fred took the seat next to Amara immediately whilst George took one opposite, next to Ron. Ron was still wearing a slight look of disgust that Amara snorted at. When Mrs Weasley had gone out the room, Amara turned to him.

"Come on Ron it's not like you've not done that with Tally."

To Amara and Fred's satisfaction, Ron went bright red as George and Bill laughed. Tally, who had merely smirked slightly, as she was now used to the Weasley household and Amara, and said nothing except give a sneaky look at her boyfriend, making him turn maroon.

"Careful Ron you'll match you're jumper next," said George, still grinning.

"Whatever," scowled Ron.

Before anyone could pick on Ron for any longer, Mrs Weasley walked back into the room, and their grins had to be stifled so she would not question them.

"Have you brought everything you need?" Mrs Weasley asked Amara when she sat down again. "Everything for the Wedding? Tally said you'd brought a dress?"

"Yeah," said Amara. "Everything's fine, Mrs Weasley. It's all in the rucksack upstairs."

Mrs Weasley nodded in content before Fleur managed to draw her in for a talk about dresses for the Wedding (which had already been discussed countless times).

The boys, who had obviously grown tired of all the talk, started talking, predictably, about Quidditch and making bets on who would win the League next. Ginny and Tally were talking amongst themselves as well.

Tally seemed to be discussing her dress for the wedding, which she had described to Amara (a turquoise patterned sleeveless dress cut below the knee) whilst Ginny was complaining (quietly) about having to wear gold.

Amara wondered how her family were doing. They'd be on the aeroplane by now. Tessie would have Alfred with her, and Archimedes would be flying to Louis and Elisabeth's house. They were all together, but it was Amara's fault they were moving in the first place. She wasn't going back to Hogwarts again – she might _never_ go to Hogwarts again, meaning she might not even be able to get the job she wanted. Which, at that moment, was the last thing in her mind.

Ron nudged her foot from under the table. Amara, who had been dazing out the window, looked at him.

"Wanna go for a walk?"

Amara smiled and nodded, and after giving Fred a quick peck on the cheek, got up and went to the back door with Ron.

It was still a good day outside; the sky was clear and there was a warm breeze that ruffled their clothes as they walked in a companionable silence across the grounds, away from the house.

They ended up in the orchard, where (what seemed to be a very long time ago) they had played Quidditch.

When they had flopped on the grass, Ron was the first to speak.

"It's so weird knowing we won't be going back next year, isn't it?"

"Tell me about it," said Amara, looking at the sky. "It won't be the same."

"How'd your parents take it?"

"Well enough," said Amara. "They understood that it's too unsafe for us now – they went along with it rather well. What about you?"

"I didn't exactly _tell_ her we weren't going back," said Ron. "But – er – she caught wind of it from one of the Order people saying about Dumbledore and stuff, and well, she kind of exploded on me. So, as a nice little warning, she _will_ be talking to you about it."

"Great," said Amara.

"And you can't go round to Fred's flat whilst George isn't there," grinned Ron.

"Excuse me?"

"She doesn't think Fred's a very good influence," Ron snorted. "On you, anyway. She wouldn't hear a word against you."

Amara smirked. "That's because I'm perfect." Her smirk fell. "She doesn't like the idea of us going, huh?"

"Not in the slightest," said Ron. "And this Wedding is making her mad as well – I mean, I had to help clean the shed yesterday. Are we going to have it in the shed? I think not!"

"It's her first child's wedding," pointed out Amara. "she's bound to do that. How's Tally, anyway?"

"Coping enough," said Ron. "It's been nice having her here, but she's bummed out she has to go back to France."

"She's going," Amara said.

"I agree wholeheartedly," said Ron. "She's not staying over here whilst we're off galloping around."

"When's Harry meant to be coming?" asked Amara.

"Not sure yet," said Ron. "I think it's either on or before his birthday, so two weeks. Dad and Kingsley went over to his Aunt and Uncle's house to explain things."

"How did they take it?"

"Not really sure," said Ron. "It was only a couple of days after we got back – people have been coming and going from our house, bit of a mess really – and Dad didn't go into it much. Top Order business, but considering what happened the last time we arrived at those Dursley's house, they probably weren't all that welcoming."

"Yeah, especially because Fred gave his cousin a Ton-Tongue Toffee," said Amara. She sighed. "So, Hermione's coming tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, Jesse came by yesterday to say he's dropping her off – do you know what she's doing to her parents? I mean, you sent yours to France, and I can't do anything with mine except … well, we'll do that later."

Amara, curious to know what Ron was talking about, answered his first question. "I have no idea. Knowing Hermione, it'll be rather thought out. I mean, she doesn't have any wizarding relatives like me."

"Well, whatever it is, we'll find out tomorrow. Oh, Tonks and Lupin are coming over tonight for dinner."

"Really? That's nice. How was their wedding?"

"Quiet, Tonks was practically bouncing," said Ron. "It was a week ago now. They couldn't even go for a honeymoon or anything."

"I doubt Lupin would've wanted to," said Amara. "Who else comes over for dinner now?"

"Loads of people," Ron shrugged. "Jesse and Adrien come over when they're not with you – they _cannot cook –_ and Mad-Eye, Kingsley and stuff. They always try and speak in a way we don't know what's going on. Oh, Fred and George stay for dinner a lot, but I think that's to eavesdrop more than anything."

"Have any of them said how Harry's getting here?"

"No," frowned Ron. "I think Mad-Eye's waiting for everyone to be here for it."

"Right," Amara nodded.

They lay on the ground in silence for a long while. It was peaceful in the orchard, each friend to their own thoughts. Amara wondered how many days of this peaceful nature they had left.

"D'you think it'll be the same, if we come back?" asked Amara.

"I dunno," said Ron. "Probably not. I mean, it'll either be because it's over, or because – well, you know."

"I probably won't be here then," Amara said.

"You definitely will," said Ron determinedly. "Pretend you're a Weasley – or say you're Tally's sister."

Amara smiled. "I think they probably know we're in the same league as Harry. You're probably just as screwed as me."

It didn't take long before their stomachs were twinging, so they went back inside for lunch. Mrs Weasley had just set down a plate of sandwiches on the table, and everyone looked up when they walked in. They all looked rather sombre, except Mrs Weasley, who was looking at them sternly.

"Are you alright, Amara?" Ginny asked when she sat down. "You looked so sad when you left with Ron."

Amara realised why they had looked so sad – because Amara had been down about her parents.

"Yeah," she muttered. "Why's your Mum look so annoyed?"

"She thinks you and Ron were planning things – you know," said Ginny quietly, giving her mother a furtive glance. She took a sandwich. "Be careful, she's already exploded on Ron. She'll be interrogating you in no time. And Hermione when she gets here tomorrow."

"I'll be on the alert," said Amara.

Fred winked at her from across the table. Amara smirked back.

"Is Charlie coming to the Wedding?"

"Of course," said Bill, grinning. "He's my Best Man. Should be arriving at the end of July."

"Excellent," said Amara. "I haven't seen him in _ages."_

Fred coughed.

"Oh calm down, Freddie," snorted Amara. "I'm not leaving you for your brother –"

Fred looked pleased.

"– and if it was, it would _totally_ be with George."

George whooped as everyone – thankfully Mrs Weasley had left the room – laughed, whilst Fred looked mock-horrified. Amara grinned sweetly at him.

"I _knew_ you preferred me!" said George. "You owe me money, Freddo."

"She does _not,"_ insisted Fred.

" – yeah, she prefers me," butted in Bill.

Fred and George both made dramatic gasps as everyone laughed (Amara was rather grateful Fleur wasn't in the room, as she may not have been _quite_ as in with the joke).

-OOOOO-

Fred and George stayed for the remainder of the day, and Amara got the distinct impression they were waiting for something, and she felt that Ron was also waiting for the same thing, as he was always looking towards the door when his mother wasn't looking. Amara didn't complain, it was nice to spend the day with Fred and George again, even if George kept trying to pretend he was Fred. It wasn't until Mr Weasley's arrival that Amara finally found out what was going on. (Tonks and Lupin were coming for dinner the next day, which Ron had somehow mixed up).

Somehow, after Mr Weasley had eaten, Mrs Weasley got distracted, and he, Ron and George disappeared upstairs. Fred, who had stood up to follow, gestured for her to go as well.

And this was how Amara found herself standing in the Weasley's attic in a small semi-circle consisting of her, Fred, George, Ron and Mr Weasley, all with wands in their hands facing an ugly, slimy looking ghoul who was looking rather apprehensive at his sudden visitors.

Amara coughed slightly at the smell of drains and saw Ron pull his jumper over his mouth.

"As much fun as this is," she said. "What on earth are we doing up here?"

"Ron had an idea –" said Fred.

" – when Ron and everyone whisks off to do who knows what, and by the way, Dad wants to talk to you about that," Amara gave a look towards Mr Weasley, who nodded. "We needed a way to make it look like he was still with us."

"And the ghoul is in this because …" Amara questioned.

"We're going to transfigure him into me and make him look like he has Spattergroit, which is a really contagious disease," said Ron.

"Ah," nodded Amara. "That makes sense. And I have to help?"

"You got an O in Transfiguration," pointed out Ron. "Fred and George can only go so far."

"We object," said Fred immediately.

"You don't hold us in very high esteem, little bro," nodded George.

"Boys, can we do this now? The smell is getting to me," said Mr Weasley, cutting across Fred and George's objections.

"Righto pops," grinned Fred and he raised his wand. The ghoul, who had got bored of his new visitors, was curled up by a pipe and was ignoring them. With a flick of his wrist, Fred pointed his wand at the ghoul and short ginger spikes started growing around his body.

"Er, Fred, Ron doesn't have ginger hair all over his body," said Amara as the hair continued to grow.

"How do you know?"

Amara gave him a very weird look before stopping the incantation. Rolling her eyes, she directed her wand at his head and muttered something under her breath. Immediately, a crop of ginger hair sprouted out of the top of the ghoul's head and grew until it was the same length as Ron's. The ghoul stopped moaning for a moment to check out his new crop of hair, but after deciding it was nothing special, he returned to his normal self.

"Beautiful," said George, grinning. "I can see the similarity already."

There was a noise downstairs and all four Weasleys looked slightly panicked.

"You stay here," said Mr Weasley. He pointed his wand at the ghoul, who faintly began to have freckles.

He disappeared down the stairs, whilst the other four stayed where they were.

"I can't believe he left," said Ron.

"Why?"

"Because the next job was to get these –" Ron lifted some striped pyjamas into the air. "On him." He gestured to the ghoul.

Amara took an involuntary step backwards.

"I'm _definitely_ out."

"Damn," said Ron, scowling.

"Guess I have to step out too," said George, looking slightly revolted.

Fred and Ron had a staring match.

"Both of you do it," Amara said.

"Who's side are you on?" demanded Fred. "I don't want to touch it!"

Amara grinned, but it turned into a grimace. "Please hurry, I think I'm going to be sick soon."

"Bets on who'll throw up first?" whispered George when Amara went over to stand next to him.

"Galleon on Ron stepping out first," Amara said.

"Boyfriend higher than your best friend, huh? Tut tut, Matthews," grinned George as Fred and Ron began wrestling with the ghoul and the pyjamas. "Deal."

After ten minutes of struggles, gagging and coughs, George won the bet when Fred stepped out just as Ron managed to get the last pyjama button done up. Amara, scowling, handed George a Galleon.

"What was that for?" asked Fred.

"We had a bet to see who lasted longest – Amara betted on Ron coming out first, so she lost."

"By like a second!" protested Amara.

"Can we leave? My stomach is about to explode," said Ron, who looked seemingly pleased he had beaten Fred. Fred, on the other hand, looked appalled.

"If I knew of the bet I would have stayed on longer!" he said earnestly as they went back down the stairs.

"Where have you lot been?" Ginny asked them suspiciously when they walked back downstairs (after performing charms on their clothes to prevent the smell)

"Ask us no questions, Ginny dear …"

"And we'll tell you no lies."

Ginny frowned at them from her place on the sofa.

"Well, as much as we'd like to stay and chat," George sighed. "We have to go home to our lovely little flat."

There was a chorus of goodbyes, whilst Fred kissed Amara on the cheek (Mrs Weasley was in the room), giving her a hug and hopping into the Floo. George also gave her a hug – "I know you still prefer me!" – and hopped in after his brother, leaving Amara grinning but slightly at loss.

Mrs Weasley had seemingly invited Tally in as another member of the family – especially now they she and Ron were together – and didn't mind at all that they were sitting close together on the sofa.

Amara had asked about this, and how Mrs Weasley was with Fred, to Ginny.

"That's because Ron shows about as much affection as a porcupine when she's in the room," said Ginny. "So they're allowed to sit together on the sofa. And Fred's always been high on her suspicious radar – and, he's nineteen and everything."

Amara grinned at that. "How're you and …"

"Harry? Well, I'm just swell after the break up," Ginny replied sarcastically. "But he did it for a reason – stupid, considering you're not breaking up with Fred, Hermione isn't with Jesse and Ron – well, do you really think he'd let Tally go?"

"Well, that's Harry for you, I suppose," said Amara as Fleur fed Bill a strawberry. She scrunched her nose up. She was _not_ like that with Fred.

"Prat," said Ginny. She looked rather forlorn. "He's such an idiot."

"He'll come back," Amara said. "Don't worry."

Ginny snorted. "That's also stupid. Two of my best friends, my brother and the guy I still like are gallivanting off for some noble task and I can't worry?"

"I don't mean that," said Amara.

"I know. You know, Tally was planning to stay here?"

"I heard she was annoyed about leaving and being so far away," said Amara. "But she _has_ to."

"That's what I said," Ginny nodded. "at least she can be safe, huh?"

Amara nodded and watched Tally and Ron on the sofa. Even if Tally planned to stay, Ron would physically put her on the flight home to make sure she was safe. And Amara would be there to help him. She wouldn't let Tally get hurt because of her – or any of her family.


	3. Hermione's Arrival

**A/N Er ... Hello everyone! If you're all still there ... after nearly a year of silence, I'm so sorry! I've had a very busy year of revision for exams and preparing for next year. I haven't got many excuses, but I've been focusing on my own stories and this chapter (3) has been a killer to write. However, I'm hoping the next few will be easier and longer to get through. Currently I have no buffer for this, I've been gone so long that I've been reading what I've written myself over the other books. So, fingers crossed that it won't take another year before another chapter. And I'm hoping that there are still people on here that want to read and review to this story! So please, leave a review and tell me what you think! Excuse for any spelling mistakes ahaha ... Enjoy!**

 **\- September & Summer xxx**

 ** _Chapter Three_**

 ** _Hermione's Arrival_**

Amara, Ginny and Tally spent most of the night talking about everything that had happened – from Dumbledore's death to Lupin and Tonks' Wedding, which Tally had attended with the rest of the Weasley's.

"I think it was quite nice it being so small," said Tally. "Because it was so quick no one had a chance to rush and make plans like Bill and Fleur's. Mrs Weasley barely had time to stress over Tonks' dress with Mrs Tonks. And even Lupin was wearing a new suit. I've never seen him so happy before."

"He looked anxious," said Ginny. "When he was waiting."

"Anyone would," said Tally dismissively.

That being so, the late night caused all three girls to be very tired in the morning, and they all ended up dozing at the breakfast table the morning after.

"What were you girls talking about all night?" asked Mrs Weasley, who was in a rather good mood that morning. Considering everything going on, it was nice for Mrs Weasley to have a sit down. Amara made her a cup of tea so she could put her feet up.

"We were talking about Lupin and Tonks' wedding," said Tally. Fleur, who she was on better terms with now (and because they were living in the same house), had done her hair in a plait down her back and she seemed to be enjoying playing with it.

"Ahh," said Mrs Weasley, smiling fondly. "It was rather sweet, wasn't it?"

"Tonks looked lovely, didn't she?" said Tally. She turned to Amara. "Her dress was so _cool,_ and her hair – it was bright blue, you know – but it was still so _tasteful_ –"

"Are you talking about Tonks and Lupin?" Fleur had arrived into the kitchen. Her hair was in a similar plait to Tally, and it they looked as though they could be related. "Zat dress looked wonderful on 'er."

This was a rather big compliment, considering Fleur had been rather derogative of Tonks the majority of the last year. However, this was due to her withdrawal symptoms from her affections to Lupin, so Amara was rather glad that she was back to herself again.

"Tallulah, Bill 'as agreed now zat you 'ave been 'ere for longer, but we would like you to be anozer bridesmaid 'as we feel eet will set ze 'hole thing off nicely," said Fleur.

"Really?" beamed Tally, looking rather pleased.

"And you will look nice in gold," Mrs Weasley smiled at her.

"Thanks, Fleur," Tally smiled. "It's going to be very exciting!"

"Yes eet is," beamed Fleur. "'ave you seen my dress yet?"

"Not yet," said Tally. "Is it up in the room?"

"Yes, come and see," said Fleur, getting up and gliding out the room. Tally hastened to follow her, whilst Ginny seemed to have a debate with herself before following them both.

There was a small silence in the kitchen, in which, Amara remembered that Mrs Weasley was still in the room. She had set her cup down.

"I'm glad that we are alone, Amara, I wanted to talk to you."

Uh oh.

Amara decided it was either about the Horcrux hunt or Fred.

"I've recently heard that Ron, Harry, Hermione and you are not returning to Hogwarts in September," said Mrs Weasley.

Amara drew her hand up and down the table and did not look at her. She cleared her throat.

"Uh, that's – yeah we are."

"And _why_ are you dropping out for your final year?" demanded Mrs Weasley.

"Well, you know, Harry's got to – um – do something. Dumbledore said he must, and well, Ron, Hermione and I have decided to join him," said Amara.

"And you're abandoning everything for that?"

"Mrs Weasley, I'm sorry, but it's really rather important," said Amara, rather earnestly, because she did not want to get on the wrong side of Mrs Weasley.

"More important than your education? What about your family? Your siblings?"

"My family are worried, yes," said Amara, deciding to at least be truthful here. "But Tessie and Ethan aren't returning to Hogwarts next year, Mrs Weasley. It's too dangerous. They're –" Amara then lied. "- transferring to Beauxbatons, you know, probably just for a few years. Just in case. My Uncle Louis managed to get them in."

She did not look at Mrs Weasley the entire time, so when she did, she was startled to find that Mrs Weasley's eyes were just as watery as her own.

"I'm sure they'll be safe," whispered Mrs Weasley.

"Me too," sniffed Amara. "It's our choice, Mrs Weasley. And Harry needs all the help he can get."

It was unfortunate, but their private conversation was disrupted when Bill and Ron walked into the room for breakfast.

"Cup of tea, Mum?" asked Bill. "Amara?"

"Yes please," said Amara, managing to hide her traces of tears.

"I'm alright thanks Bill," said Mrs Weasley, getting up. "Oh – and today, I think we should start cleaning the kitchen."

"Why?" said Ron blankly.

"Because," began Mrs Weasley. "There's a wedding being held in less than three weeks which we are already behind in! Now you shall pull your weight, young man, and clean the kitchen!" she walked out the room. "I want those surfaces spotless!"

"Sorry about this," said Bill to Amara when she had disappeared. "Mum's gone a bit mad."

"Just a little," said Ron.

"It's alright," said Amara. "We cleaned Grimmauld Place, didn't we? And this time we have magic."

-OOOOO-

Ginny and Tally had to help with the cleaning too, and it was for this reason that Amara was very glad that Hermione turned up mid-afternoon.

They had just settled down for a break when she walked in with Jesse, and Bill walking behind them, as he had met them at the gate for security questions.

"Hermione!" Amara said, eagerly jumping up at the distraction. "Thank Merlin!"

"We're cleaning again," supplied Ginny as Amara hugged her friend. When she retracted, she saw Hermione's eyes were red rimmed and she seemed on the verge of crying.

"Let's go dump your stuff off, right?" offered Amara quickly. "Come on, Ron."

Ron, who had been flicking bits of dust off Tally's hair which had settled during their cleaning session, looked up quickly.

"Right."

The three of them hurried upstairs – Jesse kissing Hermione quickly before they left, obviously knowing what they're discussion was going to be about – and into Ron's attic room for more privacy. It was messy as always, but without Harry's signature camp bed on the floor. Amara blinked in the usual bright orange and noted there was a nice picture of Tally on Ron's bedside table.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" asked Amara, sitting down on Ron's bed. Ron followed suit, and Hermione slunk down on the other wall.

"I modified my parents memories," whispered Hermione, looking horrified. "And they're off to Australia."

Amara stared at Hermione, horrified herself. She thought sending her family to France had been bad enough, but sending them without memories of her?

"They don't think I have a daughter," said Hermione quietly. "Wendell and Monica Wilkins jetted off yesterday."

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," said Amara sadly, moving over and giving her another hug.

Ron also looked troubled at the news, but before they could say much more, there was a knock at the door and Ginny walked in.

"Sorry, but Mum wants you all downstairs," she said apologetically. "We haven't finished – are you alright, Hermione?"

Feeling like Mrs Weasley was trying to stop them having private conversations, the trio followed Ginny back down the stairs and found Mrs Weasley in the kitchen, which was only half cleaned. However, it seemed Fred and George had come over for lunch.

"This is the most I've seen you for weeks," said Ron when he walked in. "Bet it's only because Amara's back, huh?"

"Of course," said George, grinning. Fred whacked him on the arm before grinning at Amara himself. Amara couldn't help but grin back, her stomach doing a somersault, as she hurried over to him. Jesse was speaking to Tally on one side of the table and Amara saw that Adrien had turned up.

"Hi, Amara," he said. "I came over to say that Noah's coming back in the next few days. Fleur said she'd jinx his – er – things off, if he didn't come to her wedding. But I think that's because no one's seen him in ages."

Amara grinned at this, as Noah had been off the radar for so long. She hadn't seen him since her fourth year, at the Quidditch World Cup.

"That's such good news!" she said happily. "Where's he staying?"

"Our flat," said Adrien. "Now that Fleur's staying here most of the time, we have a spare room."

"Amara?" Mrs Weasley called over the noise at the table. "After lunch, if you wouldn't mind, could you clear out the chicken coop for me? Fred and George, if you're staying," she seemed to realise their appearance was down to Amara herself. "You can help too."

"Oh," said Amara, a little surprised. "But I thought –"

"Ron and the others can finish the kitchen, dear," said Mrs Weasley. "Hermione, you can unpack your things in Ginny's room."

Amara exchanged glances with Ron. Was it a coincidence or was Mrs Weasley now trying to separate them completely?

Fred and George, however, were looking horrified at the prospect of cleaning out the chicken coop.

"We didn't come back here to clean!" George said, looking scandalised. "We came to see out favourite person in the whole world –"

"And your favourite person will be cleaning out the chicken coop," said Mrs Weasley. Her eyes lingered on Fred and Amara, who were holding hands (discreetly, they had thought) under the table. "No funny business."

"This is all your fault," said George half an hour later, directing it to his twin. "You and your pining –"

He was interrupted by Fred, who was looking embarrassed at the prospect of Amara knowing he was missing her.

"Shut up, George," he muttered as Amara grinned. "You missed her just as much!"

"You always do," said Amara, grinning sweetly at them. The grin, however, disappeared once they saw the state of the chicken coop.

"That's revolting," said George, staring at the mess. "How're we going to clean this lot?"

Amara rolled her eyes. "Get your wand out, you dunce," she snorted, retrieving her own. "This won't take long."

Fred, who was grinning, and George followed suit and together they managed to clean all the walls of the coop.

It took an hour of work, but the chicken coop, as George put it, looked nice enough to live in once they re-entered the kitchen. Ginny, Ron and Tally were all hard at work cleaning the other half of the kitchen, laughing about something as they did so.

"Hermione still unpacking?" Amara asked as they came in.

Ginny shrugged. "I think so. If not, Mum's got her to do something else."

Not particularly wanting to ask whether they wanted any help, Amara, Fred and George entered the lounge and found Mrs Weasley knitting a scarf.

"Mum, we've finished the coop," said Fred. "But we've got to go back to the shop, there's a whole stack of orders we need to get through." Seeing Amara's expression, however, he changed tack. "But Amara's good with that sort of stuff, so she can come too."

Amara grinned as Mrs Weasley frowned at him. "Just for this afternoon," she said. "George, are you going to be doing it?"

George nodded, without needing a glance from Fred and Amara. "Of course."

So, Amara got to go to Fred and George's shop. They Apparated to their Apparition point and went inside quickly to the flat above the shop. From her time in there from Christmas, when Amara and Fred had first got together, not much had changed. It was fairly large, considering the shop below was nice and spacious, with two bedrooms, a kitchen and living room space and a bathroom. Looking outside, Amara saw Diagon Alley, grey and looking sparse without the lively groups of people usually thronging on the cobbled streets.

"We get a lot of orders," said Fred, coming to join her. "It's like people are too scared to come here anymore."

Amara looked sadly at the street below, remembering her visits from the years before. She had never thought it would come to this.

"I want to talk to you," said Fred carefully, leading her over to the sofa. George had disappeared downstairs, and Fred looked uncharacteristically stern.

"What about?" Amara asked unsurely. He wasn't breaking up with her, was he? After seven months?

"About your – er – plans," said Fred, frowning slightly. Amara stiffened slightly at this. "I know Mum's been bothering you and Ron, and that she doesn't want you to go but –" Fred looked very conflicted by this point. "I – I just – not that I can stop you from going, but, um –"

"I can't tell you what we're doing, Fred," Amara said softly.

"I know that," said Fred hastily. "But don't, don't die, will you?"

Amara stared at him, eyes wide.

"I'm not planning on it," she said. "But it's not going to be a walk in the park."

She'd never seen Fred look so conflicted before, and it unnerved her. Taking his hands in hers, Amara attempted to get his eye, which were looking to the floor.

"You have to be safe, too, you know," she told him.

"I don't want to lose you," said Fred, so quietly that Amara thought he hadn't said anything. "I just wish I could _do_ something – like – come with you or something!" he seemed half-hopeful.

"I'm sorry, Fred," said Amara, rather tearfully now. "But –"

"I _know,_ but it's _dangerous._ And I know I've never exactly been the safest person, you're in greater danger than I am!"

"Hardly," said Amara, a sad smile on her face. "Muggleborns and Blood Traitors are kind of in the same league." She patted his cheek, which he caught. He looked at the back of it and frowned slightly, eyes looking over the words etched forever in her hand. _I must not attack others._

"I could have killed her when I saw this," said Fred, outlining it with his thumb. "I should've had those detentions."

"You didn't punch Pansy Parkinson," said Amara.

"I was going to go after her," said Fred. "George said I was being stupid."

"You would have been," said Amara, not knowing this had went on.

"He said you'd also kill me," he said, a grin flitting across his face. " _Merlin,_ I liked you so much that year. I was such an idiot. And now we've only been going out seven months and you're going off somewhere I don't know."

Fred let out a deep breath and rubbed his face. Amara hadn't realised just how much stress she was putting him through by going on this quest with Harry, Ron and Hermione. She'd been so preoccupied with the fact that her parents and siblings were in France, that Harry was still at the Dursleys and the fact that they were going on a Horcrux hunt when none of them knew where any were, that she had forgotten that Fred was going to be worried about her. His easy-going attitude only went so far, after all.

"I do you love you, you know," said Fred after a while.

Amara grinned, her sadness slowly ebbing away. "I love you too, you idiot." She then leant over and kissed him, smiling as he enveloped her in his arms and the feelings that were bubbling inside them melted away and they could forget that there was a war. For a little while, at least.

-OOOOO-

After Amara and Fred had spent time upstairs, they joined George in the workshop of the shop, ready to help with the order forms. George seemed to know of the conversation that Fred and Amara had had, but stayed silent about it.

When it was getting late, just before Mrs Weasley would come over and drag Amara home herself, Fred and George took her back and led her inside the house.

The kitchen was spotless; Ginny, Ron and Tally had obviously done a fine job with it that afternoon. Noises and lights were coming from the living room, so the three of them trooped in.

Bill was closest to the door, so asked the security questions. It was only then that Amara found that everyone's attention was focused on one thing.

"Noah!" Amara exclaimed, staring at the boy – well, man – who stood in front of her. Three years since she'd seen him at the Quidditch World Cup, and the nineteen-year-old who stood in front of her was tall, muscly and long haired. But Amara didn't see any of this, for she hurried forward and hugged him tightly. "I haven't seen you in so long!"

"I know," grinned Noah, hugging her back. "Sorry about that. It's so good to be back!"

"Adrien said you'd be back in the next couple of days! I didn't realise that meant tonight!"

"Me neither," said Noah, shaking his long brown hair – which was nearly the same shade as Amara's – out of his face. "But here I am, ready for the Wedding."

Fred and George came forward then, to give Noah a hug. They'd been good friends since they'd met the years before. Noah seemed very pleased to know that they'd managed to open the joke shop they'd been wanting.

So, it was as if there wasn't a war brewing on the horizon, as they all listened to Noah's tales of magical creatures in America and what he'd been up to. Amara had such a nice time catching up with Noah, who had always been fun, that she nearly forgot that they had to find Horcruxes and be away from Fred for a long time.


	4. The Plan

**_A/N_** **Hiya, everyone! Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, it's lovely to see that you're all still there! Anyways, I've managed to get a buffer on chapters - I'm on around chapter nine ^.^ so even if I can't write again, I'll have at least a few to add on here. Please tell me what you think! xx**

 ** _Chapter Four_**

 ** _The Plan_**

Over the next few weeks, Amara and Hermione managed to start preparing things for the hunt, which, once Harry arrived, could happen any moment. After all, they hadn't specified a date to leave.

For Hermione, this meant researching through books and sorting through the immense pile she owned to see which ones would come in useful. As well as this, they were sorting out supplies of what they could need. Hermione was very impressed by Ethan's box of helpful potions, but rather perturbed about the poisons. She also added a small bottle of _Essence of Dittany_ to the box.

Amara's and Hermione's things started to congregate together and were placed in a small beaded bag that Hermione was using for the wedding. It had such a large charm on it that they could fit whatever they wanted, including the tent that they'd taken to the Quidditch World Cup. Apparently, the man who had given it to Mr Weasley had such bad lumbago he never took it back. Mr Weasley was fine with giving it to them, but they did so in the secrecy of his shed, away from Mrs Weasley's prying eyes.

The books about Horcruxes were also with them, and Hermione had been reading them carefully, researching about the Horcruxes which they really didn't know much about. _Secrets of the Darkest Arts,_ as Hermione had told her, had explanations of how to destroy a Horcrux.

The thing was, they could only research and plan in very small intervals over the weeks that followed. Hermione wanted to spend time with Jesse, likewise, Amara wanted to spend as much time as she could with Fred. This, in itself was difficult, as Fred had to work and Mrs Weasley had them busy (Ron, Hermione and Amara generally doing separate jobs, or with Ginny and Tally).

Hermione was also trying to do some very difficult magic in order to get their things together. For one, it was no easy feat in getting the beaded bag to be so large. Amara had retrieved the food her mother had packed for her in her rucksack into the bag, before deciding that the whole rucksack could go in too.

Mr Weasley and Lupin seemed to want to know what they were all going to be up to. They asked them one evening when Mrs Weasley was focused on the dishes. However, unlike Mrs Weasley, who was still trying to corner them for information, they dropped it as soon as they mentioned that Dumbledore had made them swear not to say.

"It's not like we're going to disappear before Harry gets here," said Ron irritably one afternoon, as they unnecessarily cleaned the fireplace in the living room. "What's she trying to achieve?"

"Making it worse," said Amara, frowning as she rubbed. "We're just going to be less prepared than we could be."

"When _is_ Harry getting here?" Amara carried on a while later. "I mean, didn't Kingsley mention they were planning on Harry's birthday?"

Ron shook his head slightly. Harry's birthday was still a week and a half away. "I overheard Lupin talking to Dad. Apparently Mad-Eye's taking Harry along with Side-Along Apparition a couple days before."

Members of the Order turned up for dinner as often as Mrs Weasley made them clean. As the Burrow was now the new headquarters, and the fact that many people (like Fred and George) were out of school and members, they were less secretive than they had been in Amara's fifth year.

A brighter spark in the weeks Amara spent at the Burrow was that she could catch up with Noah, who was very popular among everyone. Tally and Jesse were constantly around him, pleased to have their brother back at last, Adrien was also popping in and out to see them, but not so much so that Fleur couldn't draw him in to wedding conversations.

Noah was excited to hear that Charlie Weasley was coming back, because he wanted to know what his work in Romania was like with dragons, and he wanted to go over there himself. Having completed his course in France, and being in America, Noah seemed to want to follow Charlie's route of dragons.

-OOOOO-

The day before Mad-Eye Moody was meant to bring Harry to the Burrow, the whole plan was scuppered.

In the evening, Moody, along with Kingsley, Mundungus Fletcher, Tonks and Lupin, assembled in the living room to tell them what was going on.

"Pius Thicknesse," Moody growled. "Has gone over."

"Gone over?" questioned Tally, from her space beside Ron.

"To You-Know-Who," said Moody, irritation all over his scarred face. "He passed a law today which makes it an imprisonable offence to use the Floo Network, Apparate or use a Portkey in Potter's Aunt and Uncle's house."

"How –?" started Amara, who was between Fred and Hermione. Moody, however, cut across to answer.

"It's in the name of Potter's protection," Moody said grimly.

"But how are we going to get him out?" said Adrien blankly. "If you can't use magic?"

"We've got an idea," said Moody, with a look toward the rest of the Order members, all of whom seemed to know what was going on. "Mundungus suggested a little – er – confusion, if the Death Eaters are waiting for us."

"Why would they be waiting for us?" said Fred. "Don't they think Harry's moving the day before his birthday?"

"We can hope," said Kingsley. "But You-Know-Who will more than likely have a guard."

"What's Dung's plan, then?" said George.

"We're going to go to Harry's Aunt and Uncles on thestrals, brooms and Sirius's old motorbike," said Remus Lupin. "And with a nice vat of Polyjuice potion. Instead of flying just Harry out of there, they'll be a fair few _other_ Harrys flying through the sky."

"We have safe houses," said Moody. "About a dozen or so, where they'll be Portkeys. My house – Reynolds, Page, your house will suffice – Molly's Aunt Muriel's, Tonks' parents. They've all agreed, of course. They'll be a Harry and a protector on each broom, to confuse the Death Eaters and act as decoys."

Amara had to admit, Mundungus's plan was very clever.

"Harry's not going to like this," spoke up Hermione. "He's not going to like us risking our lives for him."

"Potter doesn't have a choice," growled Moody. "We need his hairs; it won't take much force to get them. Now, obviously, I'm going. Kingsley, Remus, Tonks, Arthur, Bill, Fleur and Mundungus –" Moody frowned. "- have all agreed."

"I'm doing it," said Fred immediately. George nodded.

"We thought as much," said Moody, even though Mrs Weasley gave a weak sort of groan.

"I'm in," said Noah.

"Same here," said Jesse and Adrien.

"I'm going," said Ron, and Tally looked at him.

"Me too," she said.

"You are _not,"_ came the choral response of Noah, Jesse and Ron. Tally looked outraged.

"Of course I am!" she said.

"You're not of age, Miss Reynolds," said Moody, not unkindly. "Unfortunately, you'll be needing to do magic."

"Harry's not of age!"

"We're all trying to get Harry out!" said Ron, who was looking angry at the thought of Tally going. "You're not coming."

"But –"

"Tallulah," said Jesse warningly. "It's too dangerous for an underage witch."

"Ginny's not going, either," said Ron determinedly. Ginny glowered slightly. Tally folded her arms and refused to speak to anyone else.

"I'm going, too," said Amara. Hermione nodded fervently.

"Hang on –" started Fred, the same time as Jesse said: "It's dangerous."

"Don't start with me, Fred Weasley," snapped Amara, as the adults around them watched. "I'm seventeen, Harry's one of my best friends and mostly everyone else it going. I'm capable."

"We know it's dangerous," Hermione said. "It's dangerous for you, too."

Before Fred and Jesse could protest, Lupin (who had been looking on with interest) cut across.

"That's settled then," he said. "Ron, Hermione, Amara, Fred and George, Fleur, Noah and Mundungus shall be our eight Harrys. The rest of us shall be protectors."

Mundungus spoke for the first time. "I toldjer, I wanna be a protector!"

"You'll do what I say," snarled Moody. "We say you're a decoy, you're a decoy!"

Mundungus looked furious.

"We'll be leaving tomorrow afternoon," said Moody. "Be ready with your broomsticks."

-OOOOO-

The next afternoon, after saying good-bye to Mrs Weasley, Ginny and a still-sulking Tally (she'd refused to speak to Ron all morning), they congregated in the Burrow's backyard, where there was an odd jumble of thestrals, broomsticks and a very large motorbike.

"It was Sirius's motorbike," said Hagrid, who had followed Amara, Ron and Hermione outside. "Mr Weasley's bin doin' some tinkerin', I think. I'll be flyin' it 'cos broomsticks an' thestrals can't 'old me weight."

It was then that Amara noticed a small sidecar attached. She hoped she wasn't going in that, for it looked very squishy indeed. Instead, she saw that her broomstick was in the pile which were lined up on the floor.

"Right," said Moody, clunking his way toward the rather large group that was in the yard. "We're going to double up on the way over. Hagrid's taking the motorbike, the rest of you – pick your brooms up and find a friend."

Hermione went over to Jesse, who snagged her a thestral as she seemed nervous over taking a broomstick. This left Amara and Ron to have a scuffle over who was going to sit on the front of Amara's _Nimbus Two Thousand and One._ Amara won, because it was her broomstick, but Ron was very displeased over this fact.

Looking round, she saw Moody hoisting Mundungus toward him; Bill helping Fleur onto a thestral; Lupin and Tonks sharing a broom; Adrien trying to get Noah's hair out of his face as he climbed on the back of his broom; the odd combination of Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mr Weasley, both of whom looked determined to get Harry back safely; Hagrid clambering onto Sirius's old motorbike with a helmet on his large amounts of hair and finally, Fred and George. Fred did not look all pleased that Amara wasn't on the broomstick he was on, but Amara decided he should get over it. She blew him a kiss, which Ron groaned at before putting his hands round her waist.

"Fred's going to kill me," he muttered.

"No, he's not," said Amara cheerfully. "Anyway, Tally's inside, isn't she?"

"Stop jabbering, now, we're going to be late," said Mad-Eye Moody, cutting through everyone's conversations. "We're not aiming for midnight, you know!"

Amara rolled her eyes but refrained a snort. She exchanged glances with Fred, who winked at her. Smiling, Amara focused her attention back on Mad-Eye. It was a point to make that Amara had not noticed just how odd they all looked, standing in the backyard, standing stationary on broomsticks, bar a few.

"We're going to Surrey," said Moody unnecessarily. "If you get lost, send a sign and we'll come find you. But you shouldn't, because we're all together." Mad-Eye's fake eye roved over everyone. "Now, if you'll all put the Disillusionment Charm on yourselves or get someone to do it for you, we don't want to be seen."

Amara twirled her wand around her head as though tying herself up and shuddered as it felt as though an egg was dribbling down her back. Everyone else was doing the same, and one by one, everyone disappeared from view.

"We might need to re-do the spells half-way there," said Moody's voice. "But they should be strong enough. Alright, on my mark – one – two – THREE!"

Amara pushed off of the ground and whipped into the air with speed. It was difficult, with Ron on the back but she quickly adjusted and shot forwards to follow the roar of Hagrid's motorbike.

It was a very odd experience, flying with seventeen people yet not being able to see them. Well, she could see odd little ripples of where people were, but it was hard to distinguish them.

"This is weird," muttered Ron as they made their way out of Ottery St. Catchpole. "I mean, not as weird as when we rode thestrals when we couldn't see them …"

"Speak for yourself," laughed Amara. "Good thing you're not doing it now, huh?"

They didn't talk for very long, as the journey from Ron's to Harry's was long. Amara couldn't think of how they'd done it in second-year, with the flying Ford Anglia. Then again, a car would have been much more comfy than a broomstick, which was starting to feel cold as they flew higher in the clouds.

"Bear north for a quarter of a mile!" yelled Mad-Eye's voice from the very front. Amara turned, and saw the ripples move too.

"Merlin, I'm freezing my butt off," said Ron after an hour's journey. They'd been flying in low cloud, so were slightly damp and cold. Now, however, the clouds were starting to disappear, which, as Moody soon yelled back, was not a good thing. Ron and Amara, however, were very grateful.

"How long have we been?" asked Amara. Ron shifted so he could look at his watch, which was still round Amara's waist.

"Er, about an hour and three quarters," he said, shivering. Amara was distinctly glad that she had another body next to her to warm her up.

The sun started to set; as darkness started to creep around them, a few stars began to flicker in the sky. It was now much harder to see, so Amara gripped her broom tighter and pushed forward. Her time as Gryffindor Chaser, looking for the Quaffle and dodging Bludgers, was coming in handy as she tried to spot the others rippling across the sky.

As they got closer to Surrey, Amara's thoughts strayed. Not two years ago, she'd visited here from Grimmauld Place. She'd seen her grandfather, who had been ill, and her grandmother. She hadn't seen them since. Now that her parents were away in France, she doubted that she would see them for a very long time. She hoped against hope that they were safe.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but really it hadn't even got properly dark yet, Moody yelled that they were going on the descent.

Pinpricks of light grew larger as they sped downwards, Ron tightening his grip as it started to get sharper. They were focused on one large shadow of a house, which had half of its lights on. Closer and closer, until they were aiming for the back garden.

Landing smoothly, Amara and Ron hopped off her broomstick as the rest of the group came down too. There was the roar of the motorbike as Hagrid switched it off.

Not a moment later, the back door was yanked open and a familiar figure with jet black hair tore out of it.

"Harry!" cried Amara happily.

Hermione got to him first and flung her arms around him. The disillusionment charms had worn off as Amara hugged Harry tightly too. Ron clapped him on the back as everyone else said hello too.

"All righ', Harry? Ready fer the off?" said Hagrid, grinning.

"Definitely," said Harry, beaming around at them all. "But I wasn't expecting this many of you!"

"Change of plan," growled Mad-Eye, bringing the two bags of bulging sacks he'd tied beneath his broomstick. "Let's get undercover before we talk you through it."

Fred came over to Amara then, flinging an arm around her waist. Harry led them inside, and it felt like old times as they trooped in, laughing as Fred and George quipped jokes, and chattering as if flying down into a muggle garden was a common occurrence.

Harry seemed bursting with excitement as they came into his house, for the first time for many of them.

Amara looked around in interest as they walked into the Dursley's kitchen. It was very clean, cleaner than anywhere Amara had been before, minus the hospital. Even then it was a contention. Every work surface and appliance was gleaming.

"Alright, Harry?" said Noah, pushing his hair out of his face. "I'm Noah Reynolds, don't know if you remember."

"Of course," said Harry brightly. "Haven't you been in America for while?"

"Yeah," grinned Noah as they walked towards some chairs. His talk soon switched to his magical creatures.

Amara settled beside Fred, him leaning against the counter as Amara hopped on the worksurface, resting against him. Ron stood next to her, grinning at Harry. Harry himself was revolving, looking at them all and smiling.

"Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister?" Harry called across the room to Kingsley, who was over near Mr Weasley.

"He can get along without me for one night," said Kingsley. "You're more important."

"Harry, guess what?" said Tonks from her perch on top of the washing machine, and she wiggled her left hand at him to show off her ring.

"You got married?" Harry yelped, looking from her to Lupin.

"I'm sorry you couldn't be there, Harry, it was very quiet."

"That's brilliant, congrat —"

"All right, all right, we'll have time for a cosy catch-up later!" roared Moody over the hubbub, and silence fell in the kitchen.

Moody dropped his sacks at his feet and turned to Harry. "As Dedalus probably told you, we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. He's made it an imprisonable offense to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here, or Apparate in or out. All done in the name of your protection, to prevent You-Know-Who getting in at you. Absolutely pointless, seeing as your mother's charm does that already. What he's really done is to stop you getting out of here safely.

"Second problem: You're underage, which means you've still got the Trace on you."

"I don't —"

"The Trace, the Trace!" said Mad-Eye impatiently. "The charm that detects magical activity around under-seventeens, the way the Ministry finds out about underage magic! If you, or anyone around you, casts a spell to get you out of here, Thicknesse is going to know about it, and so will the Death Eaters.

"We can't wait for the Trace to break, because the moment you turn seventeen you'll lose all the protection your mother gave you. In short: Pius Thicknesse thinks he's got you cornered good and proper."

Harry seemed to think that Pius Thicknesse was right, as he frowned slightly.

"So, what are we going to do?" he asked.

"We're going to use the only means of transport left to us, the only ones the Trace can't detect, because we don't need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, and Hagrid's motorbike."

"Now, your mother's charm will only break under two conditions: when you come of age, or" — Moody gestured around the pristine kitchen — "you no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight, in the full understanding that you're never going to live together again, correct?"

Harry nodded.

"So, this time," Moody carried on. "When you leave, there'll be no going back, and the charm will break the moment you get outside its range. We're choosing to break it early, because the alternative is waiting for You-Know-Who to come and seize you the moment you turn seventeen. The one thing we've got on our side is that You-Know-Who doesn't know we're moving you tonight. We've leaked a fake trail to the Ministry: They think you're not leaving until the thirtieth. However, this is You-Know-Who we're dealing with, so we can't just rely on him getting the date wrong; he's bound to have a couple of Death Eaters patrolling the skies in this general area, just in case. So, we've given a dozen different houses every protection we can throw at them. They all look like they could be the place we're going to hide you, they've all got some connection with the Order: my house, Kingsley's place, Jesse and Adrien's flat, Molly's Auntie Muriel's — you get the idea."

"Yeah," said Harry.

"You'll be going to Tonks's parents. Once you're within the boundaries of the protective enchantments we've put on their house, you'll be able to use a Portkey to the Burrow. Any questions?"

"Er — yes," said Harry. "Maybe they won't know which of the twelve secure houses I'm heading for at first, but won't it be sort of obvious once" — he performed a quick headcount — "eighteen of us fly off toward Tonks's parents'?"

"Ah," said Moody, "I forgot to mention the key point. Eighteen of us won't be flying to Tonks's parents'. There will be nine Harry Potters moving through the skies tonight, each of them with a companion, each pair heading for a different safe house."

Moody pulled out the flask of Polyjuice potion they'd been shown earlier. Then, everything clicked in Harry's brain. He suddenly looked horrified.

"No!" he said loudly, his voice ringing through the kitchen. "No way!"

"I told them you'd take it like this," said Hermione swiftly from her place beside Jesse. Amara nodded.

"If you think I'm going to let eight people risk their lives — !"

"— because it's the first time for all of us," said Ron.

"This is different, pretending to be me —"

"Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry," said Fred earnestly, and Amara refrained a laugh at his tone. "Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specky, scrawny gits forever."

Harry did not smile as Amara pushed her face into Fred's shoulder, half-irritated, half trying not to laugh.

"You can't do it if I don't cooperate, you need me to give you some hair."

"Well, that's that plan scuppered," said George. "Obviously there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate."

"Yeah, seventeen of us against one bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we've got no chance," said Fred. Amara hit him lightly on the shoulder.

"Funny," said Harry, "really amusing."

"If it has to come to force, then it will," growled Moody, his magical eye now quivering a little in its socket as he glared at Harry. "Everyone here's overage, Potter, and they're all prepared to take the risk."

From Amara's position, she saw Mundungus shrug and grimace. She wasn't the only one to glare.

"Let's have no more arguments. Time's wearing on. I want a few of your hairs, boy, now."

"But this is mad, there's no need —"

"No need!" snarled Moody. "With You-Know-Who out there and half the Ministry on his side? Potter, if we're lucky he'll have swallowed the fake bait and he'll be planning to ambush you on the thirtieth, but he'd be mad not to have a Death Eater or two keeping an eye out, it's what I'd do. They might not be able to get at you or this house while your mother's charm holds, but it's about to break and they know the rough position of the place. Our only chance is to use decoys. Even You-Know-Who can't split himself into more than seven."

Amara shifted slightly and took a quick glance at Ron, who caught it meaningfully.

"So, Potter — some of your hair, if you please."

Harry glanced at Ron, who grimaced at him in a just-do-it sort of way. He then looked at Amara, from her place next to Fred. She nodded slightly.

"Now!" barked Moody.

With all of their eyes upon him, Harry reached up to the top of his head, grabbed a hank of hair, and pulled.

"Good," said Moody, limping forward as he pulled the stopper out of the flask of potion. "Straight in here, if you please."

Harry dropped the hair into the Polyjuice potion. The moment it made contact with its surface, the potion began to froth and smoke, then, all at once, it turned a clear, bright gold.

"Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry," said Hermione, before catching sight of Amara and Ron's amused faces and Jesse's questioning raised eyebrows, blushing slightly, and saying, "Oh, you know what I mean — Goyle's potion looked like bogies."

"Right then, fake Potters line up over here, please," said Moody.

Amara, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Noah and Fleur lined up in front of Harry's Aunt Petunia's gleaming sink.

"We're one short," said Lupin.

"Here," said Hagrid gruffly, and he lifted Mundungus by the scruff of the neck and dropped him down beside Fleur, who wrinkled her nose pointedly and moved along to stand between Fred and George instead. Amara was glad she was between Fred and Ron, because Noah looked distinctly displeased over the fact the scruffy con man was next to him.

"I've toldjer, I'd sooner be a protector," said Mundungus.

Amara was very glad he wasn't.

"Shut it," growled Moody. "As I've already told you, you spineless worm, any Death Eaters we run into will be aiming to capture Potter, not kill him. Dumbledore always said You-Know-Who would want to finish Potter in person. It'll be the protectors who have got the most to worry about, the Death Eaters'll want to kill them."

Mundungus did not look particularly reassured, but Moody was already pulling half a dozen eggcup-sized glasses from inside his cloak. Amara took hers as Moody passed them round before filling them up with the potion.

"Altogether, then . . ."

So, Amara, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Noah, Fleur, and Mundungus drank.


	5. The Battle in the Sky

_**A/N Hi, everyone! Sorry for the delay - I was visiting my brother so was unable to update. I've decided to try and update every Wednesday now, as I am on about chapter fourteen. Anyway, don't forget to leave a review of what you think! Thanks for the reviews on the previous chapter - I hope I haven't lost too many of you from the long absence xx**_

 ** _Chapter Five_**

 ** _The Battle in the Sky_**

She gasped as she felt the potion go down her throat. The time she had taken it in second-year came rushing back. Her stomach was a bunch of wriggling snakes as her whole figure started to feel like it was melting. She, along with Hermione and Mundungus shot up, the opposite of Fred, George and Ron, who were shrinking. Her hair was retracting back into her skull as she tried not to double up and puke on the floor.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped, and Amara was surrounded by Harrys.

Fred and George turned to each other and said together, "Wow — we're identical!"

"I dunno, though, I think I'm still better-looking," said Fred, examining his reflection in the kettle. "Amara, how'd I look?"

He struck a pose.

"The same as me, you git," Amara laughed. "And I don't think Harry appreciates that pose."

Harry was looking at them, utterly bewildered. He did, however, look weirded out when Fred struck the pose at Amara. Amara guessed that it would be very strange indeed, looking at eight mirror images of yourself.

"Bah," said Fleur, checking herself in the microwave door, "Bill, don't look at me — I'm 'ideous."

"Those whose clothes are a bit roomy, I've got smaller here," said Moody, indicating the first sack, "and vice versa. Don't forget the glasses, there's eight pairs in the side pocket. And when you're dressed, there's luggage in the other sack."

The Harry that was Noah was feeling his hair. "This is _so_ weird," he said. "Where's all my hair gone?"

The rest laughed slightly as they went toward the bags and fetched the clothes from within them. Amara grabbed a pair of larger ones and started taking her clothes off.

Everyone else was stripping off with relative ease when it wasn't their body. If they hadn't taken the Polyjuice potion, Amara would have been very embarrassed indeed, especially when Fred was changing right next to her. He, too, seemed slightly confused.

"I knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo," said Ron, looking down at his bare chest. Amara snorted with laughter.

"What about yours?" she chortled, thinking about the pygmy puff.

The Ron-Harry glared at her as Fred looked inquisitively at them. Amara grinned at him, and found that her eyes were slightly fuzzy. Harry really did need glasses.

"Harry, your eyesight really is awful," said Hermione, as she put on glasses. Amara followed suit before picking up a rucksack and stuffed owl in a cage.

"Good," said Moody, as at last they were all ready to go. "The pairs will be as follows: Mundungus will be traveling with me, by broom —"

"Why'm I with you?" grunted the Harry nearest the back door. Amara turned to glare at him. She still hadn't forgiven Mundungus over stealing Sirius's stuff last year. The fact that this plan he'd made up was good was only a glimmer of forgiveness. Even Fred and George, since his many mistakes over the years, seemed to have lost a liking for him.

"Because you're the one that needs watching," growled Moody in reply, and sure enough, his magical eye did not waver from Mundungus as he continued, "Arthur and Fred —"

"I'm George," said Fred from next to Amara, making her roll her eyes. "Can't you even tell us apart when we're Harry?"

"Sorry, George —"

"I'm only yanking your wand, I'm Fred really —"

"Don't be a prat," said Amara, whacking him.

"Enough messing around!" snarled Moody. "The other one — George or Fred or whoever you are — you're with Remus. Miss Delacour —"

"I'm taking Fleur on a thestral," said Bill quickly. "She's not that fond of brooms."

Fleur walked over to stand beside him, giving him a soppy, slavish look that made Amara and Ron exchange glances. Harry had never had a look like _that_ on his face before.

"Miss Granger with Kingsley, again by thestral —"

Hermione looked reassured as she answered Kingsley's smile, though Jesse seemed disappointed that they weren't paired together. But Amara was slightly jealous; Kingsley was one of the best, no wonder Hermione looked so relieved.

"Miss Matthews – you'll be with your cousin, Reynolds. The _other_ Reynolds, you're going with Page," continued Moody, and Amara was relieved that she was with Jesse. Noah hastened over to stand by Adrien, who looked at him in bemusement, shaking his head. He'd never seen Polyjuice potion work before. It struck Amara then, however, just how involved they were. Adrien and Noah had not stopped to think about whether they'd be helping or not. They only were involved because – in Adrien's case – he knew Jesse, who was related to Amara, who was best friends with Harry. If Amara had never found out that her cousins were magical …

Amara shook herself, bringing herself back to reality. She didn't want to think about that. Hermione and Ron wouldn't have Jesse and Tally, for one thing.

"Which leaves you and me, Ron!" said Tonks brightly as Amara focused back in, knocking over a mug tree as she waved at him.

Ron did not look quite as pleased as Hermione and Amara. Amara, however, thought this unfair. Tonks was an Auror, after all.

"An' you're with me, Harry. That all righ'?" said Hagrid, looking a little anxious. "We'll be on the bike, brooms an' thestrals can't take me weight, see. Not a lot o' room on the seat with me on it, though, so you'll be in the sidecar."

"That's great," said Harry, looking slightly nervous.

"We think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom," said Moody, who seemed to guess how Harry was feeling. "Snape's had plenty of time to tell them everything about you he's never mentioned before, so if we do run into any Death Eaters, we're betting they'll choose one of the Potters who look at home on a broomstick. All right then," he went on, tying up the sack with the fake Potters' clothes in it and leading the way back to the door, "I make it three minutes until we're supposed to leave. No point locking the back door, it won't keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking . . . Come on . . ."

Amara walked over to Jesse, after squeezing Fred's hand, and grinned at him.

"Ready?"

"Yes," said Jesse, though he looked rather pale. Amara made her broom jump into her hands before handing it to Jesse. "We're going to our flat," he said.

"You're going in front, I presume," grinned Amara and Jesse nodded. Once they had mounted the broomstick, they saw everyone around them doing the same. Hermione was on a thestral with Kingsley, Bill and Fleur on the other.

"- It's got a few tricks up its handlebars now. Tha' one was my idea," Amara heard Hagrid speaking to Harry, who was very low indeed in the sidecar.

"Please be careful, Hagrid," said Mr Weasley, who was standing beside them, holding his broomstick with Fred. Fred winked at Amara, which was odd, because it looked like Harry was. "I'm still not sure that was advisable and it's certainly only to be used in emergencies."

"All right then," said Moody. "Everyone ready, please; I want us all to leave at exactly the same time or the whole point of the diversion's lost."

Everybody mounted their brooms.

"Hold tight now, Ron," said Tonks.

Hagrid kicked the motorbike into life as Amara wrapped her arms round Jesse's waist.

"Good luck, everyone," shouted Moody. "See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One . . . two . . . THREE."

There was a great roar from the motorbike, Amara braced herself as Jesse pushed off, soaring high into the air with the others. Amara gripped her wand in her hand as they soared higher into the sky.

Suddenly, just as Amara's heart rate was easing off, they were surrounded. Hooded figures, everywhere, at least thirty of them. Amara screamed in surprise and she heard others shout out as they formed a circle around the members.

Then, there were green lights everywhere – one skimmed so near Amara's head she nearly fell off the broom in shock. Jesse swore as a figure swooped in front.

" _Stupefy!"_ Amara yelled. Her spell missed who she was aiming for but hit another cloaked figure several feet away. It fell, cloak and all, from the sky and Amara's heart thudded against Jesse's back as she realised what she'd done.

She screamed again as she saw curses nearly hit the people around her; her friends, her boyfriend, people she trusted. With all the spells and screams, and the fact Jesse had to keep swerving to avoid it all made the confusion increase. She had no idea who was who – she swore she saw Hagrid and Harry roll over on Sirius's motorbike.

" _Stupefy!"_ she screamed at an oncoming Death Eater, who shot sideways and grinned nastily at her. "Jesse _FLY!"_

"I'm trying!" bellowed Jesse as he dodged more green lights. They were flying north – slightly northeast, toward London and Jesse's flat. Mad-Eye was flying with Mundungus a short way off; so were Bill and Fleur. They were both going north, too.

" _Impedimenta!"_ Amara screamed at an oncoming Death Eater. By now, there were at least four chasing after them alone; killing curses were skimming their hairs on the top of their heads as they began to close in.

" _Stupefy!"_

 _"_ _Protego!"_

Amara was shooting off spells at random, not knowing what she was hitting anymore. It was getting increasingly difficult to stay hold of Jesse and fire curses at moving objects, all of whom were trying to kill them.

Fifteen minutes of rash and complicated fighting later, a curse shot towards them, making Jesse shoot several feet into the air. The curse, however, hit his ankle.

Jesse bellowed in pain as it immediately began to bleed; a large gash had sliced his jeans and the skin underneath.

" _Sectumsempra!"_ shrieked Amara, pointing the spell viciously at a Death Eater near her.

Jesse was now swerving slightly in the attempt to keep upright and moving. Try as she might, Amara couldn't reach his ankle to stem the flow.

Turning, Amara saw Mad-Eye battling the Death Eaters too, but he seemed to have twice as many as she did – at least a dozen; Bill and Fleur were doing similar motions. Amara deflected the curses coming their way as Jesse continued to grapple in pain.

There was a shriek from where Amara had seen the other two pairs, turning, Amara's heart stopped in her chest as she gazed in horror at what had just occurred.

Voldemort – Lord Voldemort himself – was flying – flying without any means of a broomstick or thestral and looking so dangerous that Amara screamed. He was flying straight towards Mad-Eye and Mundungus. Before she could look, a killing curse shot at her head. She ducked, shot a spell back just as there was a crack like a gunshot, two yells and a shrill scream. Whipping round, Amara saw Mad-Eye was now alone on his broomstick; Mundungus had Apparated away.

A jet of light from Voldemort hit him full on the face as he turned.

Amara screamed as, in slow motion, Moody fell sideways and off the broomstick, falling the thousands of feet below towards the ground.

" _NO!"_ Amara roared, and saw Bill and Fleur yelling too.

Her poor attention, however, had cost her dearly. The figures following them took full advantage of her lack of concentration and shot two separate spells at them. One hit the broomstick; the end-tail caught alight as the second spell hit Jesse in the back. He fell forward, smashing his face onto the broomstick as they began to fall.

Amara screamed as several curses hit her at once as they began hurtling towards the ground. Jesse was unconscious, yet still on the broomstick, and Amara, thinking quickly, tried to slow their pace by grabbing the broom and shoving it upwards.

Turning, Amara saw the figures above get smaller – it seemed that Voldemort had vanished since Mad-Eye's fall. There was a trail of smoke from Amara's broomstick as they fell.

The force of Jesse's weight and Amara's weakness from the curses caused the broom to continue to fall. The ground, which had been so far below them, was coming up fast – too fast. _She was going to die._

 _They were going to die._

" _Wingardium Leviosa!"_ Amara yelled in desperation as they neared a small wood below. The broomstick and Jesse hovered slightly, as though confused.

Her spell wasn't powerful enough; though it was working somewhat, they were still being pulled to the floor, yet at a slower pace than before.

They hit the trees with such a force that Amara's hope of them both surviving diminished quickly. They hit branch after branch, snapping them as they tore downwards; Amara was trying to stay conscious as she clutched hopelessly to the broomstick and Jesse. The scars from Greyback opened and began to bleed, just as a large branch hit her straight in the forehead as finally, finally, they reach the floor.

Bleeding profusely and half-covered by Jesse, Amara blearily looked around before slumping forward, the world turning black.

-OOOOO-

When Amara came to, she was immediately disorientated.

She had no idea the time or where they were. Her whole body seemed broken, and Jesse was still out cold. Their mode of transport was ruined. Her broomstick, the gift she'd received from a long-distanced relative, was shattered beneath them. One particular shard had lodged itself in Amara's arm, and the end tails were still smouldering slightly. Amara also knew that they would not be able to Apparate whilst they were in this stated.

She groped painfully for her wand and found it – mercifully still in tact. Her hair was coming out of the ponytail she'd put it in, and that meant another problem. Their hour to get to Jesse's flat was up; Amara no longer looked like Harry, and their Portkey would be going in the next few minutes. Having no idea where she was or how long she'd been passed out, Amara knew they were stuck. Very stuck.

Amara winced as she assessed herself for injuries. It seemed that the curses that had been shot at her were shooting pains through her back; her face was covered in blood, as well as many scratches and gashes from the trees. She'd twisted her arm in the descent, and it was no twinging nastily. Performing the little first aid charms she knew, back when she had wanted to be a Healer, Amara attempted to make herself fit enough to help Jesse.

Jesse was in a worse state than she was. His foot looked as though it was going to fall off, there was so much blood everywhere and the man himself was stark white. His nose also seemed broken, and it looked as though a few teeth were missing from where he'd smashed his face onto the broomstick.

Biting her lip, Amara bandaged up the ankle best she could and stemmed the blood flow. The shock over what had happened meant her hands were shaking the whole time she was casting spells.

" _Renervate,"_ Amara said desperately, attempting to wake him up. It took three attempts, but finally, Jesse stirred. As soon as he shifted, he leant sideways and threw up.

"Merlin," he said weakly, shaking all over. "How did they know?"

"I don't know," whispered Amara miserably.

"Where are we?"

"I don't know," said Amara, trying to shrug, but it was too painful.

"There's no point in going to my flat, is there," said Jesse thoughtfully, wincing in pain. "You're back to normal; the Portkey must've gone ages ago."

Amara looked at her watch. The whole screen had smashed.

"My watch is broken," she said. "I don't know what the time is. What do you think happened to the others?"

She meant, really, if Jesse thought anyone else was dead.

"I don't know," said Jesse shakily. "There were so many of them – how, _how_ did they know we were moving Harry tonight? We thought there were going to be one or two, and that they'd call for back-up or something. But … but there was a whole army up there! A dozen of them were chasing Mad-Eye alone! And I saw, I saw Hermione and Kingsley before they went East –" Jesse's voice broke slightly.

"She'll be fine," said Amara, thinking about Hermione, Ron, Harry, Fred, George … "She's tough. And Kingsley's one of the best, isn't he? I bet that's why they went for Mad-Eye first … they'd expect Harry to be with him or Kingsley."

Jesse wriggled and groaned as he tried to sit up. "Did you see -?"

"Voldemort?" Amara said, not particularly wanting to say his name, but doing it anyway. She felt too exposed, and the image of him flying was etched in her head, along with Mad-Eye falling from the broomstick. "Yeah. He can _fly."_

Jesse shook his head slowly, because it seemed painful for him.

"They seemed confused, though, didn't they?" he said. "They knew what day we were moving Harry, but didn't know about the actual plan."

"Do you think Mundungus –"

"Can't have," said Jesse, glaring at the floor. "He was the one who suggested it. Spineless worm."

They were both shivering now, even though it wasn't cold.

"We've got to get out of here."

"How?" Amara said anxiously. "I don't think either of us are in a fit state to Apparate – my broomstick's been shattered and we don't have the Portkey!"

Jesse looked very troubled with this. "We're going to have to _try_ and Apparate," he said. "Otherwise we'll have to – to _walk_ to the Burrow."

"We'll splinch ourselves!" Amara said, rather hysterically. "I think we should find out where we are first. See if we can –"

She broke off suddenly. There had been a few snaps of twigs from the left, the ominous sign that there was some movement going on. But Amara knew it was no animal that had made those noises.

Someone had entered the wood.


	6. A Group Torn Apart

**_A/N Sorry for the short chapter, the others following should be slightly longer (hopefully). Enjoy!_**

 ** _Chapter Six_**

 ** _A Group Torn Apart_**

"Get up!" hissed Amara quickly, scrambling painfully to her feet and wincing as she felt her back bleed and shoot pains all over her body. She half-lifted, half-carried Jesse behind a tree as quietly as she could before he managed to get to his feet himself.

"Do you think –"

Amara shushed him silently; two figures had come into view. Looking through a thicket of branches, Amara saw the distinctive cloaks and masks of Death Eaters. They were tall and burly, and Amara had a feeling that they were two of the ones from the sky.

"They came down here, I'm sure of it," muttered one, wand in hand.

"Did you see who it was?" asked the other in a deep growl. "Anyone important?"

"Just a young guy," said the first one. "Not any of them Aurors – not the real Potter, either. He was screaming too much."

"Where are they? I saw them come down –"

They broke off. They'd seen the shattered broomstick on the wood's floor and Amara very nearly forgot to breathe.

"The broomstick!" snarled the second Death Eater, looking at it with interest and pointing upwards at all the broken branches. "They came down here! How did they survive the fall?"

"If they have they'll be in a bad way," said the other nastily. "I cursed the fake-Potter before they fell. And the other bloke was unconscious already. They'll be close by." He shot a couple of Killing curses to his right. Luckily it was not where Amara and Jesse were hiding. The curses, however, illuminated the dark wood. As they tailed off, Amara glanced back at the two Death Eaters. "Let's search."

One went over to where he'd shot the curses, checking if they'd hit a target. The other, meanwhile, was dangerously close to where Amara and Jesse were.

Jesse tugged hard on Amara's t-shirt, which was hanging off her just slightly.

 _"_ _Apparate,"_ he mouthed at her, and Amara nodded, feeling terrified. She clutched Jesse's arm with a shaky determination. The Death Eater was two feet away, and getting closer.

Turning on the spot, she screwed up her whole concentration and thought of a place to go, that wasn't too far from where they could be. Before the Death Eater could wrench the branches apart, Amara and Jesse had disappeared with a _pop._

-OOOOO-

The suffocating feeling of Apparition eased off as they appeared at their destination. Amara had not been completely focused on where they were going – should she have risked Apparating all the way back to the Burrow? Or to Jesse and Adrien's flat, which was the opposite way to go. So, instead, she had decided upon –

"Your house?" Jesse gasped as he staggered sideways. From what it looked like, the Apparition had made his wounds to open again; blood was already seeping onto the floor. By the feeling of things, the same thing had happened to Amara. She looked up and saw the dark outline of the familiar building, which she'd left just a few weeks before. No one, it seemed, had been there since her family had.

"I'm not used to Side-Along," she said, panting slightly and looking back round at her cousin.

"That was too close," said Jesse, now slumping onto the grass. The protection wards had made them appear in the back garden, and Amara was hoping that none of her neighbours were awake to see them appear. "He nearly caught us! And if the other had shot killing curses our way …"

"What were they doing there?" Amara said, not wanting to think about that side of things. She helped Jesse to his feet and staggered inside. "How did they _get_ there?"

"I think they were cleaning up," said Jesse grimly, whether through the thought of it or through pain, Amara didn't know. They'd reached the back door.

" _Alohomora!"_ she chanted and yanked the door open, wincing at her twisted arm.

Depositing Jesse on a dining chair, Amara tripped over to the kitchen sink.

"What do you mean, cleaning up?" she asked, trying to get blood out of her face.

"Cleaning up the bodies," said Jesse, who's white face shone out through the moonlight. Amara didn't dare put any lights on. Instead, she filled to glasses of water and gave one to Jesse.

"You mean –"

"They thought we were dead," said Jesse. "They'd've – they'd've done the same to Mad-Eye. They can't just have bodies lying around. I bet they'll do the same for the ones they've lost, or unaware Muggles will stumble across the bodies."

Amara gulped and took a sip of water. She didn't want to think about Mad-Eye. She was beyond furious over what Mundungus had done. How dare he Apparate away? And Mad-Eye, Mad-Eye was one of the leaders. He'd always been that strong point since they met him for real at the beginning of their fifth-year.

"If the Death Eaters think we're dead," Amara said slowly, the water helping get her energy back. She sat down on a chair next to Jesse and tried to ignore her injuries. "Then the others must do, too."

Jesse nodded. "We've got to get back, and quickly. Do you think you can Apparate again?"

"I think so," said Amara. "We didn't splinch the first time, did we?"

Jesse shook his head. "If we do it in stages, I think, not in one go." He looked down at himself. "I don't think I could cope with more than two, we've both lost too much blood."

Amara nodded grimly, a dull ache beginning to spread at the back of her head. Her forehead, too, had a large gash.

"Let's go."

Leaving their bloodstained glasses and pools of blood on the floor, Amara and Jesse hobbled back outside Amara's house and into a non-warded area.

"I'm going to go to … to … to the petrol station we went to last summer, when Adrien drove us down," said Amara firmly. "That's halfway there."

"As long as the Muggles don't see us," said Jesse unsurely.

Amara did not care about Muggles seeing them. She was more worried about the fact that they were both now struggling to remain upright without using each other as support. Instead of answering, she twisted on the spot and apparated next the station, which Amara remembered because Adrien had needed to stop to fuel up.

It was deserted; there were no cars in sight, and the only lights were in the station, where the attendee was looking at something on the counter.

Jesse was close to collapsing now and Amara was struggling to hold him up and breathe herself. Whatever the curses were, they were long-lasting and felt like someone was squeezing her lungs.

"Let's go behind here," Amara gasped, dragging a semi-conscious Jesse round behind a nearby tree. It was just as well, for a car had just rolled up to the station and Amara did not want questions.

"Jesse?" Amara asked quickly as Jesse's eyes started to flicker closed. "Jesse, you've got to stay awake! There's only one more go!"

Jesse made a non-committed shrug but at least tried to straighten up slightly.

Amara gripped him and twisted on the spot, thinking so hard about the Burrow that she felt like she was there already.

When they landed, she felt Jesse collapse beside her, and she sunk to her knees slightly. The pain had re-doubled itself after they'd apparated for the third time.

Looking up blearily, she saw the familiar outline of the Burrow in the distance. They'd made it, just.

"Jesse," she croaked. "Jesse, we're _here._ "

But Jesse did not reply. He had slumped forward and was unconscious again. Panicking, Amara checked for a pulse. It was there, but it was faint. She needed to get inside, immediately.

She nearly had to crawl through the boundary gate, because she had to drag Jesse across the grounds. Over the field, it seemed to take an age just to go a few meters.

She was going to faint, she thought, the darkness of the night was not helping as the Burrow began to get larger. There was a distraction, however, when she got to the gate for the garden.

Three figures were illuminated from the lights of the kitchen window. It was Harry, Ron and Hermione. Amara nearly burst into tears at the sight of them. They hadn't noticed her yet, they seemed to be having a serious conversation together. They did, however, look up when they heard Amara's pants and dragging noises.

Hermione screamed.

The three ran over to them as Amara collapsed fully. From the dim lights of the Burrow, Amara saw that Harry's face was ashen and agonised; Ron was pale, his eyes bloodshot. Hermione had tear tracks down her face, which were being ruined by the new wave of tears that were flowing down her face.

They thought they'd _died._ Amara knew this.

"You're – you're _alive,"_ croaked Ron, looking close to tears himself.

"Jesse – needs – help," Amara gasped. Hermione, through her tears, was trying to get Jesse to wake up.

Ron hoisted her to her feet, Harry on the other side. When it became clear that Hermione couldn't hold Jesse herself, Harry went over to help. They all seemed so shaken at Amara and Jesse's sudden appearance that they couldn't say anything. They were so pale Amara thought they were going to faint. Then again, Amara was bleeding so much that she believed she was going to faint herself. If Ron wasn't holding her up, she would have collapsed.

Harry and Hermione lugged Jesse through the door first, Ron following quickly behind with Amara.

There were several shrieks and gasps as they tumbled through. Looking round in her odd state, she saw it was packed. Tonks, Hagrid, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Fleur, Tally, Ginny, Adrien and Noah all stared at them, horrified at their bloodstains and injuries. George was on the sofa with a bandage round his head; Bill and Lupin and Kingsley were absent. Mad-Eye and Mundungus, for obvious reasons, were not there.

Amara's eyes, however, went to the tall red-headed figure who made half risen from the sofa. Fred was the palest she'd ever seen him.

She stumbled forward, out of Ron's grip, as Tally burst into tears. Fred met her half way and she tumbled in his arms, finally letting tears escape her. She was shocked to find however, that Fred had a few tears escaping too.

"I thought you were _dead,"_ he choked into her shoulder. Amara was kneeling on the floor by this point, her legs having given way. Around her, the room had erupted into conversation.

When Fred finally released her, Mr Weasley came forwards. Looking thoroughly shaken, he also had a mixed look of an apology.

"I'm sorry, Amara, I really am but I need to do the questions –"

"Dad," said Fred, looking furious. "She's been through hell, can't it wait?"

"No, Fred," said Mr Weasley. Fred turned back to Amara quickly.

"Amara, why was I angry for you having detention in your fifth-year?"

Amara blinked through the blood droplets. "Because I punched Parkinson and you wanted to do it."

"That's enough, she's Amara," said Fred, looking angrily at his father. Amara looked around. Jesse was lying on the sofa that George had quickly vacated. He seemed to be stirring as Fleur, Adrien, Tally, Noah, Hermione and Mrs Weasley hovered over him. Fleur and Hermione were at various stages of tears, Amara had never seen Adrien look so serious.

Harry and Ron were hovering near her with Ginny and George, all looking terrified. Mrs Weasley seemed to be instructing the others before she hurried over.

"Oh _Amara,"_ she whispered, sounding tearful. "We thought you – you –"

"What happened?" Ron said, still looking white. His arms were around Tally, who was crying over the fact her brother looked close to death.

"I saw Mad-Eye," said Amara shakily. "Voldemort – he was –"

"Flying?" said Harry. Amara nodded.

"Well, when he got hit, I was distracted – they'd already hit Jesse's ankle – and – and – they set fire to the broom and hit Jesse with a curse that made him smash into the broom. I tried to get us back up again but – but – it was too hard. We crashed in a wood – I don't know where –"

"How did you survive that?" George said weakly. "That must've been a thousand feet in the air – Bill said they saw you go down."

Fleur was nodding. "We saw eet all," she said. "'Ow your broom was alight and 'ow Jesse was unconscious."

"I did a few spells," said Amara shakily, as Mrs Weasley gasped at the state of her back.

"Amara – your scratches, they've opened."

Fred immediately twisted round so he could inspect the damage. Amara's top was so ripped that it only took a few openings before they saw the extent of the damage. Luckily, she'd put a vest top on, but even that had ripped and was bloodstained.

"Merlin," breathed Fred.

"Where's Bill, Lupin and Kingsley?" Amara asked instead.

"Kingsley's gone back to Downing Street," said Tonks, who looked shaken.

"Bill and Lupin have gone to find … to find Mad-Eye," said Mr Weasley. "They were also going to find you two."

So, they all thought they'd died.

"I doubt they'll find him," croaked Jesse, who had woken up. "We passed out in that wood. It wasn't long after we'd woken up that we heard Death Eaters coming for us."

Ginny gasped.

"We hid behind a tree," said Amara. "And then I had to Apparate us away. We went to my house and then a few stops until we got here."

"The Death Eaters came and found you?" Mr Weasley looked shocked. "Then … Mad-Eye's probably been cleared up already …"

"What happened to you guys?" Jesse asked as Mrs Weasley began bustling around getting potions and bandaging her head.

"We all got chased," said Tonks. "Ron and I were chased by the Lestranges. We missed our Portkey –"

"After Voldemort realised Harry wasn't with Mad-Eye, he came to chase us, but changed track half way through," said Hermione, who was still shaking.

"We were OK," said Fred. "So were Adrien and Noah."

Amara gave George a glance. "What happened to you?"

"Snape," he said, pointing to the left side of his head. "Lost an ear."

"You _lost_ an _ear?"_

It seemed that they'd all struggled, but none of them had gone down like Jesse and Amara had. It seemed, too, that a lot had missed their Portkeys because of how many Death Eaters there were.

Amara started to feel better as Mrs Weasley started giving her potions. Jesse, too, was being given things by Hermione and Fleur. Noah was looking worriedly at his brother. Harry was looking very conflicted indeed.

"Amara, how many times did you get hit by a curse?" said Mrs Weasley.

"Several," said Amara. "I don't know what they were, though."

Fred was now looking very anxious indeed. "You can sort it out though, can't you Mum?"

"It'll take a bit of work," said Mrs Weasley, looking troubled. "But, yes, you and Jesse are both going to be fine, I think."

Slowly, as it seemed the group were reluctant to disperse, everyone started to leave as Mrs Weasley managed to get Amara and Jesse back to normal.

Lupin and Bill arrived at about one o'clock in the morning, both surprised but overjoyed over the fact that Amara and Jesse were alive.

"We saw you go down!" said Bill, looking at Amara, wide-eyed. They had not managed to find Mad-Eye, and by Jesse's and Amara's accounts of being found not soon after they'd landed, they decided it was a lost cause.

Tonks, Lupin and Hagrid took their leave. Jesse was staying on the sofa for the night, being too weak to get home, Fleur had volunteered to look after him and forced Adrien and Noah to go home too. Hermione, too, had wanted to stay down and help her boyfriend, but Mrs Weasley made her get some sleep.

Harry seemed shaken over Amara's near-death and seemed to be blaming himself as he went to bed with Ron, who was looking at Amara as though she was going to disappear. Tally and Ginny helped Mrs Weasley get Amara up the stairs and into some pyjamas. Fred did not want to leave her side and George had to practically pull him away so they could get some sleep.

"Someone betrayed us," Ginny whispered as Mrs Weasley finally thought Amara was alright. It was just Tally, Ginny and Amara; Hermione had refused to come up until Jesse had gone to sleep. "When you two didn't come home … I've never seen everyone so … so broken. Ron and Harry and George … Fred was practically edging out the door to come find you."

"Harry was determined to leave," said Tally. "He thinks it's his fault, but then Fred said … he said that he owed you to stay. I don't know what was happening in the yard when you arrived back."

Amara did not reply. She was busy thinking about Fred's shocked face when he saw her alive and how he had seemed so … so out of character.

 _What if it had been him?_ Amara thought. If Fred had been the one not to come home … Amara didn't know what she'd do. She'd grown so attached … it would be like a part of her was lost.

Rolling over and wincing – and remembering Mrs Weasley's warnings to be careful – Amara tried, with difficulty, to get at least a few hours sleep.


	7. Mourning and Preparing

**_A/N Thanks for the reviews, as always! And for all the follows and favourites of the whole series! Welcome!_**

 ** _Chapter Seven_**

 ** _Mourning and Preparing_**

Fred was by her side as soon as she had woken up the next day. He helped her all the way down the stairs, even though Amara had insisted she could walk herself (which, in all honesty, she probably couldn't).

Ron was very relieved that Amara was alive. Harry, too, was apologetic, which Amara waved off.

"I chose to do it, didn't I?"

The next few days saw a gloomy air over the loss of Mad-Eye Moody. Fred was adamant to stay with Amara, who still needed a few helps when her werewolf scratches opened. It wasn't until George forced Fred to go to work that Fred left Amara's side. Jesse was in the same boat; both Fleur and Hermione were looking after him.

Harry, the day after the battle in the sky, while Amara was resting on the sofa, informed her of what he'd seen in the yard. He'd offered to help her change her bandages, but Amara had had a feeling that he'd needed to talk to her.

"Ollivander was tortured by Voldemort?" Amara said quietly, so that no one could hear them. "But what is the connection between your wands?"

"We share the same core – the _only_ same one," said Harry. He seemed to pause and his eyes flickered toward the door. They were alone in the living room; Mrs Weasley had made Ron and Hermione do various jobs. "There's something else, too." He took a breath. "When we were being chased by Voldemort – the bike was broken, we were falling so quickly – my wand, whilst my scar was so painful, it – it acted by itself. It spurted these golden flames after whizzing round and facing Voldemort … I … no one believes me but … I don't know if the connection is the same. Voldemort wasn't using his own wand – he used Lucius Malfoy's."

Amara's eyes were very wide when Harry finished. "Is that how you escaped? By the flames?"

Harry nodded.

"But … I've never heard of that before," said Amara. She frowned. "I mean, maybe it was … maybe it sensed Voldemort or something?"

Harry looked up at her. "You believe it did it by itself?"

"There's no reason not to," said Amara. "Just because it hasn't been done before, doesn't mean it's impossible."

"Mr Weasley and Hermione think it was accidental magic," said Harry bitterly.

"I've never heard of golden flames before," said Amara. "Honestly, didn't Ollivander always say the wand chooses the wizard? If it can do that, I think it can do a lot more things. Maybe it knew it needed to protect you. Wands are clever, Harry."

Harry nodded, still looking rather relieved that someone actually believed him.

"Thanks, Amara," he said gratefully. "I knew you'd be more understanding … I mean, you listened to me about Malfoy last year, didn't you?"

Amara smiled and nodded.

"And …" Harry seemed to pause again. "I'm glad you're alive. It was horrible, thinking you'd gone down."

"I know, we should have sent a message or something," Amara said. "I wish I knew how to do that Patronus message thing."

"I doubt you'd've been able to," said Harry firmly. "The Death Eaters could've caught you."

Amara sighed and shrugged. "Oh, I forgot to say, Mrs Weasley's trying to get it out of us on what we're doing. Now you're here –"

"I know," said Harry. "Ron told me this morning. Is she really trying to stop us?"

"I'm not sure," said Amara thoughtfully. "She must know how important it is."

Sure enough, it seemed that Mrs Weasley was again determined to stop Harry, Ron, Hermione and Amara from talking about their plans. Though she hadn't caught Amara and Harry in the living room, she'd nearly busted when she'd caught Ron and Amara muttering about when they were going to leave. Apparently, Harry had wanted to go the day of his birthday, but Ron had told him about the Wedding.

Luckily, Mrs Weasley seemed to think that Amara still needed a lot more rest, so when she made the others clean hard, Amara had more tasks that required sitting down. It also meant that she didn't need to de-gnome the garden. She did, however, spend two days colour-matching ribbons and flowers and attempting to display them as well as helping Mrs Weasley in the kitchen.

On the third evening since Harry had arrived, the kitchen was at bursting point with so many people at dinner. Harry was sitting next to Ginny and seemed to be trying to avoid touching her; Amara was next to Fred, who she'd nearly slapped because he was babying her too much. George was on her other side and was nearly wetting himself over it.

Ron, who had gotten over the fact that Amara had turned up alive (for they looked at each other like brother and sister), was opposite with Tally.

"No news about Mad-Eye?" Harry asked Bill, making everybody listen.

"Nothing," replied Bill. "But from Amara and Jesse's experience with Death Eaters, I doubt we ever will. The Daily Prophet hasn't said a word about him dying or about finding the body. But that doesn't mean much. It's keeping a lot quiet these days."

"And they still haven't called a hearing about all the underage magic I used escaping the Death Eaters?" Harry called across the table to Mr Weasley, who shook his head. "Because they know I had no choice or because they don't want me to tell the world Voldemort attacked me?"

"The latter, I think. Scrimgeour doesn't want to admit that You-Know-Who is as powerful as he is, nor that Azkaban's seen a mass breakout."

"Yeah, why tell the public the truth?" said Harry, looking angry.

"Isn't anyone at the Ministry prepared to stand up to him?" asked Ron angrily.

"Of course, Ron, but people are terrified," Mr Weasley replied, "terrified that they will be next to disappear, their children the next to be attacked! There are nasty rumours going around; I for one don't believe the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts resigned. She hasn't been seen for weeks now. Meanwhile Scrimgeour remains shut up in his office all day: I just hope he's working on a plan."

They were all given apple tart during the lull in conversation.

"We must decide 'ow you will be disguised, 'Arry," said Fleur, once everyone had pudding. "For ze wedding," she added, when he and everyone else looked confused. "Of course, none of our guests are Death Eaters, but we cannot guarantee zat zey will not let something slip after zey 'ave 'ad champagne."

From what Hermione had mentioned earlier that day, Fleur seemed to think it had been Hagrid who had given away the plan.

"Yes, good point," said Mrs Weasley from the top of the table, where she sat, spectacles perched on the end of her nose, scanning an immense list of jobs that she had scribbled on a very long piece of parchment. "Now, Ron, have you cleaned out your room yet?"

"Why?" exclaimed Ron, slamming his spoon down and glaring at his mother. "Why does my room have to be cleaned out? Harry and I are fine with it the way it is!"

"We are holding your brother's wedding here in a few days' time, young man —"

"And are they getting married in my bedroom?" asked Ron furiously. "No! So why in the name of Merlin's saggy left —"

"Don't talk to your mother like that," said Mr Weasley firmly, as Amara tried not to giggle. "And do as you're told."

Ron scowled at both his parents, then picked up his spoon and attacked the last few mouthfuls of his apple tart.

"I can help, some of it's my mess," Harry told Ron, but Mrs Weasley cut across him.

"No, Harry, dear, I'd much rather you helped Arthur muck out the chickens, and Hermione, I'd be ever so grateful if you'd change the sheets for Monsieur and Madame Delacour; you know they're arriving at eleven tomorrow morning. Amara, you can rest in Ginny's bedroom, I don't want you opening those scratches again."

Amara did not heed her advice. Instead of leaving Ron and Hermione on the second-floor, she followed Ron into his bedroom so that they could have a chat. Ron, too, did not do what his mother had asked. He flopped on the bed as soon as he entered, shifting over slightly so that Amara could sit down too.

"There's no way I'm cleaning this," Ron said firmly as they settled. "What's the point? No one else is going to see it!"

"Weddings," Amara said wisely. "They make people insane."

Ron chortled at this. "You know, Tally seems to think I'm going to tell her what we're doing."

Amara sighed. "Fred asked the other week," she said. "It's going to be horrible enough as it is, leaving them."

Ron nodded, looking troubled, but then his expression started to relax. Amara picked up a magazine and they sat in a companionable silence for about five minutes before the door opened and Ron shot up so quickly Amara nearly screamed.

It was Hermione and Crookshanks with an armful of books as well as two bulging bags.

"I already changed the sheets," she said brightly. "So, I thought it was a good opportunity to start going through all the books we need to take."

"Good thinking," said Amara, nodding, as Hermione settled herself into the far corner of the very messy bedroom. She immediately began picking up various volumes and putting them into two piles. She also retrieved Harry and Ron's books (Amara's were already in the piles she had brought it).

"Do you think there's a chance Mad-Eye's still alive?" asked Ron. Amara looked at him, rather surprised.

"He fell off his broom, Ron," said Amara quickly. Before they could say any more however, the door opened once again and Ron had to get up again.

"I'm doing it, I'm doing — ! Oh, it's you," said Ron in relief, as Harry entered the room. Ron lay back down on the bed next to Amara. Harry looked around, seeing Amara and Hermione and raising his eyebrows.

"Hi, Harry," Hermione said, as he sat down on his camp bed.

"And how did you manage to get away?"

"Oh, Ron's mum forgot that she asked Ginny and me to change the sheets yesterday," said Hermione. She threw _Numerology and Grammatica_ onto one pile and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ onto the other.

"I'm 'resting'," Amara shrugged, grinning.

"We were just talking about Mad-Eye," Ron told Harry. "I reckon he might have survived."

"But Bill saw him hit by the Killing Curse," said Harry. "And Amara saw him fall."

"Yeah, but everyone was under attack too," said Ron. "How can he be sure what he saw?" he turned to Amara. "Weren't you being hit yourself?"

"Even if the Killing Curse missed, Mad-Eye still fell about a thousand feet," said Hermione, speaking aloud what Amara was going to say and weighing _Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland_ in her hand.

"He could have used a Shield Charm —"

"Fleur said his wand was blasted out of his hand," said Harry.

"Well, all right, if you want him to be dead," said Ron grumpily, punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape.

"Of course we don't want him to be dead!" said Hermione, looking shocked. "It's dreadful that he's dead! But we're being realistic!"

"The Death Eaters have got him," said Amara. "I don't know how long I passed out for, but they were relatively quick in getting to the place that Jesse and I were."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Tidying up like Barty Crouch was, turned into a bone and buried in Hagrid's front garden. They probably transfigured Moody and stuffed him —"

"Don't!" squealed Hermione. She burst into tears over _Spellman's Syllabary_. Harry looked horrified.

"Oh no," said Harry, struggling to get up from the old camp bed. "Hermione, I wasn't trying to upset you!"

He hurried over and gave her a hug, looking terrified over the fact that she was still crying. Hermione turned her face into Harry's jumper, the boy himself patting her on the head.

"Oh … it's OK … sorry, Harry …" she sniffed loudly and Amara gave her a handkerchief. "Thanks Amara … It's just so awf-ful, isn't it? R-right after Dumbledore . . . I j-just n-never imagined Mad-Eye dying, somehow, he seemed so tough! And – and … I thought Jesse … and Amara had d-died too!"

"Yeah, I know," said Ron. "But you know what Mad-Eye'd say to us if he was here?"

" 'C-constant vigilance,' " said Hermione, mopping her eyes.

"That's right," said Ron, nodding. "He'd tell us to learn from what happened to him. And what I've learned is not to trust that cowardly little squit, Mundungus."

Hermione gave a shaky laugh and Harry went back over to his camp bed again. It was a good thing, too: Hermione had reached for two more books, one of which was _The Monster Book of Monsters,_ which she dropped in the exact place Harry had been sitting. The book broke free from its restraining belt and snapped viciously at them all before Hermione squashed it again.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry, watching Hermione resume her sorting.

"Just trying to decide which ones to take with us," said Hermione. "When we're looking for the Horcruxes."

"Oh, of course," said Ron, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I forgot we'll be hunting down Voldemort in a mobile library."

"Ha ha," said Hermione, looking down at _Spellman's Syllabary_. "I wonder . . . will we need to translate runes? It's possible. . . . I think we'd better take it, to be safe."

"Listen," said Harry.

He had sat up straight, and Amara, Ron and Hermione looked at him with similar mixtures of resignation and defiance. Here it was.

"I know you said after Dumbledore's funeral that you wanted to come with me," Harry began.

"Here he goes," Ron said to Amara and Hermione, rolling his eyes.

"As we knew he would," Hermione sighed, turning back to the books. It was true: in the few moments they'd had alone, they had decided that Harry would probably try and dissuade them from coming. "You know, I think I will take _Hogwarts, A History_. Even if we're not going back there, I don't think I'd feel right if I didn't have it with —"

"Listen!" said Harry again.

"No, Harry, you listen," said Hermione. "We're coming with you. That was decided months ago — years, really."

"But —"

"Shut up," Ron advised him.

"— are you sure you've thought this through?" Harry persisted.

"Let's see," said Hermione, slamming _Travels with Trolls_ onto the discarded pile with a rather fierce look. "Amara and I have been packing for days, so we're ready to leave at a moment's notice, which for your information has included doing some pretty difficult magic, not to mention smuggling Mad-Eye's whole stock of Polyjuice Potion right under Ron's mum's nose.

"I've also modified my parents' memories so that they're convinced they're really called Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and that their life's ambition is to move to Australia, which they have now done. That's to make it more difficult for Voldemort to track them down and interrogate them about me — or you, because unfortunately, I've told them quite a bit about you.

"Assuming I survive our hunt for the Horcruxes, I'll find Mum and Dad and lift the enchantment. If I don't — well, I think I've cast a good enough charm to keep them safe and happy. Wendell and Monica Wilkins don't know that they've got a daughter, you see.

Hermione's eyes were swimming with tears again. Amara got off the bed too comfort her this time and gave her a squeeze.

"I — Hermione, I'm sorry — I didn't —"

"Didn't realize that Ron, Amara and I know perfectly well what might happen if we come with you? Well, we do."

"I've sent my whole family off to France," said Amara quietly. "Tally's going to join them after the wedding. Tessie and Ethan aren't going back to Hogwarts in September, either. I'm pretending they've transferred to Beauxbatons. Hopefully, everyone else will think that I have, too."

"But – Amara – you nearly _died_ the other day –"

"Which means there's more reason for me to come," Amara insisted. "I'm not waiting around for the Death Eaters to find me. As long as I've helped a bit first."

"Ron, show Harry what you've done," said Hermione.

"Nah, he's just eaten," said Ron.

"Go on, he needs to know!"

"Oh, all right. Harry, come here."

Ron left with Harry to the landing. Amara, who had seen the ghoul when she'd helped transfigure it, stayed with Hermione. They rejoined them a few minutes later, when Hermione was sorting books again and Amara had walked back over to the bed.

"Once we've left, the ghoul's going to come and live down here in my room," Ron explained to Harry. "I think he's really looking forward to it — well, it's hard to tell, because all he can do is moan and drool — but he nods a lot when you mention it. Anyway, he's going to be me with spattergroit. Good, eh?"

Harry merely looked confused.

"It is!" said Ron, clearly frustrated that Harry had not grasped the brilliance of the plan. "Look, when we three don't turn up at Hogwarts again, everyone's going to think Amara, Hermione and I must be with you, right? Which means the Death Eaters will go straight for our families to see if they've got information on where you are."

"But hopefully it'll look like I've gone away with Mum and Dad; a lot of Muggleborns are talking about going into hiding at the moment," said Hermione. "And obviously, as Amara said, it'll look like she's transferred to Beauxbatons with her siblings."

"We can't hide my whole family, it'll look too fishy and they can't all leave their jobs," said Ron. "So we're going to put out the story that I'm seriously ill with spattergroit, which is why I can't go back to school. If anyone comes calling to investigate, Mum or Dad can show them the ghoul in my bed, covered in pustules. Spattergroit's really contagious, so they're not going to want to go near him. It won't matter that he can't say anything, either, because apparently you can't once the fungus has spread to your uvula."

"And your mum and dad are in on this plan?" asked Harry.

"Dad is. He helped Amara, Fred and George transform the ghoul. Mum . . . well, you've seen what she's like. She won't accept we're going till we've gone."

They fell quiet for a while, Ron gazing out the window, his thoughts obviously elsewhere. Amara was watching the books pile up, thinking about when they left – when they'd leave Fred, Tally, Ginny, George, Jesse, Noah all behind … Harry, too, looked preoccupied, which was not surprising.

Through the silence came the muffled sounds of Mrs Weasley shouting from four floors below.

"Ginny's probably left a speck of dust on a poxy napkin ring," said Ron. "I dunno why the Delacours have got to come two days before the wedding."

"Fleur's sister's a bridesmaid, she needs to be here for the rehearsal, and she's too young to come on her own," said Hermione, as she seemed to be trying to decide whether to take _Break with a Banshee_.

"Well, guests aren't going to help Mum's stress levels," said Ron.

"What we really need to decide," said Hermione, tossing _Defensive Magical Theory_ into the bin without a second glance and picking up _An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe_ , "is where we're going after we leave here. I know you said you wanted to go to Godric's Hollow first, Harry, and I understand why, but . . . well . . . shouldn't we make the Horcruxes our priority?"

"If we knew where any of the Horcruxes were, I'd agree with you," said Harry.

"Don't you think there's a possibility that Voldemort's keeping a watch on Godric's Hollow?" Hermione asked. "He might expect you to go back and visit your parents' graves once you're free to go wherever you like?"

Amara hadn't thought of that before. She knew Harry wanted to see his birthplace – and the place where it all happened, after all, but it _was_ an obvious place to start. They could be done in a day if they went there first.

Ron, who obviously had not been listening to what they were saying, said: "This R.A.B. person, you know, the one who stole the real locket?"

Hermione nodded as Amara turned her head slightly toward the red-headed-boy.

"He said in his note he was going to destroy it, didn't he?"

Harry dragged his rucksack toward him and pulled out the fake Horcrux in which R.A.B.'s note was still folded.

" _'_ _I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can_ ,'" Harry read out.

"Well, what if he did finish it off?" said Ron.

"Or she," interposed Hermione and Amara gave a nod.

"Whichever," said Ron, "it'd be one less for us to do!"

"Yes, but we're still going to have to try and trace the real locket, aren't we?" said Hermione, "to find out whether or not it's destroyed."

"And once we get hold of it, how do you destroy a Horcrux?" asked Ron.

"Well," said Hermione, and she gave a glance at Amara in a shifty sort of way.

"We've done – ah – some research on that," Amara carried on.

"How?" asked Harry. "I didn't think there were any books on Horcruxes in the library?"

"There weren't," said Hermione, who had turned pink as she glanced at Amara, who nodded encouragingly. "Dumbledore removed them all, but he — he didn't destroy them."

Ron sat up straight, wide-eyed.

"How in the name of Merlin's pants have you two managed to get your hands on those Horcrux books?"

"It was pretty easy, to be honest," said Amara as Hermione looked rather panicked. "I mean, Dumbledore didn't exactly make it a hard job when he took them out of the library."

"How did you do it, then?" said Ron.

"We summoned them through the window of Dumbledore's study and through to the girl's dormitory," said Amara.

"But when did you do this?" Harry asked, regarding Hermione and Amara with a mixture of admiration and incredulity.

"Just after his — Dumbledore's — funeral," said Hermione in a rather small voice. "Right after we agreed we'd leave school and go and look for the Horcruxes. When Amara and I went back upstairs to get our things it — it just occurred to us that the more we knew about them, the better it would be . . . and Lavender had already gone . . . so we tried . . . and it worked. They flew straight in through the open window and I — I packed them." She swallowed and then said imploringly, "I can't believe Dumbledore would have been angry, it's not as though we're going to use the information to make a Horcrux, is it?"

"Can you hear us complaining?" said Ron. "Where are these books anyway?"

Hermione rummaged for a moment and then extracted from the pile _Secrets of the Darkest Art._ She held it gingerly, as though – as it did with Amara – it was nauseating.

"This is the one that gives explicit instructions on how to make a Horcrux. _Secrets of the Darkest Art_ — it's a horrible book, really awful, full of evil magic. I wonder when Dumbledore removed it from the library. . . If he didn't do it until he was headmaster, I bet Voldemort got all the instruction he needed from here."

"Why did he have to ask Slughorn how to make a Horcrux, then, if he'd already read that?" asked Ron.

"He only approached Slughorn to find out what would happen if you split your soul into seven," said Harry. "Dumbledore was sure Riddle already knew how to make a Horcrux by the time he asked Slughorn about them. I think you're right, Hermione, that could easily have been where he got the information."

"And the more I've read about them," said Hermione, "the more horrible they seem, and the less I can believe that he actually made six. It warns in this book how unstable you make the rest of your soul by ripping it, and that's just by making one Horcrux!"

"Isn't there any way of putting yourself back together?" Ron asked.

"Yes," said Hermione with a hollow smile, "but it would be excruciatingly painful."

"Why? How do you do it?" asked Harry.

"Remorse," said Hermione. "You've got to really feel what you've done. There's a footnote. Apparently, the pain of it can destroy you. I can't see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?"

"No," said Ron. "So, does it say how to destroy Horcruxes in that book?"

"Yes," said Hermione, now turning the fragile pages as if examining rotting entrails, "because it warns Dark wizards how strong they have to make the enchantments on them. From all that I've read, what Harry did to Riddle's diary was one of the few really foolproof ways of destroying a Horcrux."

"What, stabbing it with a basilisk fang?" asked Harry.

"Oh well, lucky we've got such a large supply of basilisk fangs, then," said Ron. "I was wondering what we were going to do with them."

Amara laughed before answering. "It doesn't _have_ to be a basilisk fang. Basically, the Horcrux needs to be damaged beyond repair. Beyond _any magical_ repair. And, as we know, the venom from the basilisk only has one antidote –"

"— phoenix tears," said Harry, nodding.

"Exactly," said Hermione. "Our problem is that there are very few substances as destructive as basilisk venom, and they're all dangerous to carry around with you. That's a problem we're going to have to solve, though, because ripping, smashing, or crushing a Horcrux won't do the trick. As Amara says, you've got to put it beyond magical repair."

"But even if we wreck the thing it lives in," said Ron, "why can't the bit of soul in it just go and live in something else?"

"Because a Horcrux is the complete opposite of a human being."

Harry and Ron looked very confused at this, so Hermione hastened to explain.

"Look, if I picked up a sword right now, Ron, and ran you through with it, I wouldn't damage your soul at all."

"Which would be a real comfort to me, I'm sure," said Ron.

Amara and Harry laughed.

"It should be, actually! But my point is that whatever happens to your body, your soul will survive, untouched," said Hermione.

"But it's the other way round with a Horcrux. The fragment of soul inside it depends on its container, its enchanted body, for survival. It can't exist without it."

"That diary sort of died when I stabbed it," said Harry, and Amara remembered back in the Chamber of Secrets, when the diary was ruined. The ink had been all over the floor (mixed, of course, with the blood of the basilisk).

"And once the diary was properly destroyed, the bit of soul trapped in it could no longer exist. Ginny tried to get rid of the diary before you did, flushing it away, but obviously it came back good as new."

"Hang on," said Ron, frowning. "The bit of soul in that diary was possessing Ginny, wasn't it? How does that work, then?"

"While the magical container is still intact, the bit of soul inside it can flit in and out of someone if they get too close to the object. I don't mean holding it for too long, it's nothing to do with touching it," she added before Ron could speak. "I mean close emotionally. Ginny poured her heart out into that diary, she made herself incredibly vulnerable. You're in trouble if you get too fond of or dependent on the Horcrux."

"I wonder how Dumbledore destroyed the ring?" said Harry. "Why didn't I ask him? I never really . . ."

Harry didn't finish the sentence. It trailed away into nothingness, and left a small silence behind. Amara began to think of Dumbledore again. How little they knew of what he wanted, how there were so many questions that they needed to ask, yet couldn't. _Because of Snape._ Amara nearly growled out loud.

The silence they had was shattered like glass when the bedroom door was slammed open with such force it nearly ricocheted off the hinges. It slammed into the wall; Hermione shrieked and dropped the Horcrux book; both Ron and Amara leapt off the bed – Ron slipped on a discarded Chocolate Frog wrapper and smacked his head on the wall opposite, Amara falling over backward and landing in a pile on the floor. Crookshanks hissed and streaked for cover – Harry diving for his wand until they realised, quite late, that it was Mrs Weasley.

This was not much better. She looked furious.

"I'm so sorry to break up this cosy little gathering," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm sure you all need your rest . . . but there are wedding presents stacked in my room that need sorting out and I was under the impression that you had agreed to help."

"Oh yes," said Hermione, looking terrified as she leapt to her feet, sending books flying in every direction, "we will . . . we're sorry . . ."

With an anguished look at Amara, Harry and Ron, Hermione hurried out of the room after Mrs Weasley.

"It's like being a house-elf," complained Ron in an undertone, still massaging his head as he helped Amara to her feet, as she was wincing slightly. They all walked to the door after Mrs Weasley and Hermione. "Except without the job satisfaction. The sooner this wedding's over, the happier I'll be."

"Yeah," said Harry, "then we'll have nothing to do except find Horcruxes. . . . It'll be like a holiday, won't it?"

Ron and Amara started to laugh, but at the sight of the enormous pile of wedding presents waiting for them in Mr and Mrs Weasley's room, stopped quite abruptly and groaned.


	8. Meeting the Delacours

**_Chapter Eight_**

 ** _Meeting the Delacours_**

Amara had recovered by the next day. It was a good thing, too, as the Delacours arrived at eleven o'clock, and Mrs Weasley had had them cleaning and scurrying around the house at frightening speeds since the crack of dawn.

She also forced them to all troop out into the backyard to line up and wait for Mr Weasley to come back. Amara was sulking slightly over the fact Fred couldn't come over; Ron was furious as he had to change into matching socks and they were all rather irritated by the Delacours, even though they hadn't met them yet.

Even the backyard had been cleaned so thoroughly that it was unrecognisable. Amara wasn't sure she liked it. The chickens weren't pecking around, the wellington boots were missing and there were no more interesting plants in the garden. By the look on Harry's face, he was most displeased. Amara wasn't surprised, by the looks of the Dursley's house, it would be annoying for it to be so clean constantly.

They heard a high-pitched laugh, making them all exchange glances, as the visitors appeared at the gate. Amara and Hermione tried not to giggle when they found it was coming from Mr Weasley, who was leading a beautiful blonde woman with unmistakeably veela qualities and seemed to be Madame Delacour.

"Maman!" cried Fleur, rushing forward to embrace her. "Papa!"

Amara wasn't sure how Monsieur Delacour got his wife considering he was short and plump, but she decided that it must be the personality of him. Or else he was attractive when he was younger.

Amara and Hermione really did giggle when he bounced forward to Mrs Weasley and kissed her twice on each cheek. Mrs Weasley looked terribly flustered at this.

"You 'ave been to much trouble," he said in a deep voice. "Fleur tells us you 'ave been working very 'ard."

"Oh, it's been nothing, nothing!" trilled Mrs. Weasley. "No trouble

at all!"

Ron relieved his feelings by aiming a kick at a gnome who was peering out from behind one of the new Flutterby bushes at the back door.

"Dear lady!" said Monsieur Delacour, still holding Mrs Weasley's hand between his own two plump ones and beaming. "We are most honoured at the approaching union of our two families! Let me present my wife, Apolline."

Madame Delacour glided forward and stooped to kiss Mrs Weasley too.

" _Enchantée_ ," she said. "Your 'usband 'as been telling us such amusing stories!"

Amara was distinctly reminded of the Quidditch World Cup when Mr Weasley laughed. All the boys had gone slightly mad over the veela, and even now Ron was the same with Tally (and Fleur).

"And, of course, you 'ave met my leetle daughter, Gabrielle!" said Monsieur Delacour. Gabrielle was Fleur in miniature and now eleven years old. Amara had met her when she was being put to sleep for the Triwizard Tournament. She hadn't said much then. Now, she gave Mrs Weasley a dazzling smile – Amara was reminded of Tally – and hugged her. Harry also received a glowing look, which made Ginny clear her throat loudly.

"Tallulah!" cried Madame Delacour. "Fleur said you were 'ere! Eet ees lovely to see you again! You are grown up!"

Tally smiled at them and greeted them. Amara vaguely remembered her mentioning she had known them from parties.

"Well, come in, do!" said Mrs Weasley brightly after all the hellos.

Luckily for them, the Delacours weren't as atrocious as they had all assumed. They were, in actual fact, the perfect guests. Madame and Monsieur Delacour were always helpful and pleasant. They spoke to Amara about her cousins and aunt and uncle.

"Louis ees most accomplished! And Fleur 'as been friends with Jesse for years!"

Gabrielle was slightly more irritating, following Fleur around and only talking in French. For Amara, she caught most of what she was saying, not that it was of much use. Though, she did help when she could.

In dire need to be alone, Amara, Harry, Ron and Hermione managed to de-attach themselves from the crowded house to have a chat. Since their meeting in Ron's room, they hadn't had any time.

As they walked out and were completing the job of feeding the chickens, Mrs Weasley soon exited the house with a basket of washing.

"But she still won't leave us alone!" snarled Ron.

"Oh, good, you've fed the chickens," she called as she approached them. "We'd better shut them away again before the men arrive tomorrow . . . to put up the tent for the wedding," she explained, pausing to lean against the henhouse. She looked exhausted. "Millamant's Magic Marquees . . . they're very good, Bill's escorting them. . . . You'd better stay inside while they're here, Harry. I must say it does complicate organizing a wedding, having all these security spells around the place."

"I'm sorry," said Harry.

"Oh, don't be silly, dear!" said Mrs Weasley at once. "I didn't mean — well, your safety's much more important! Actually, I've been wanting to ask you how you want to celebrate your birthday, Harry. Seventeen, after all, it's an important day. . . ."

"I don't want a fuss," said Harry quickly. "Really, Mrs Weasley, just a normal dinner would be fine. . . It's the day before the wedding . . ."

"Oh, well, if you're sure, dear. I'll invite Remus and Tonks, shall I? And how about Hagrid?"

"That'd be great," said Harry. "But please don't go to loads of trouble."

"Not at all, not at all . . . It's no trouble . . ."

As she walked away, Amara perked up over the fact that Harry's birthday dinner meant that Fred would surely be there. She'd hardly had a chance to see him after getting Harry from the Dursley's.

The next morning, Amara and Hermione left Tally and Ginny in the bedroom to go down to breakfast and see Harry.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" said Hermione as they entered. She put her present on the top of a large pile, and Amara followed suit. "It's not much, but I hope you like it. What did you get him?" she added to Ron, who seemed to purposely not hear her. Amara raised an eyebrow.

"Come on, then, open Hermione's and Amara's!" said Ron.

Hermione had got him another Sneakoscope whilst Amara had got him a chain with a small pressed token with the tiniest little broomstick etched on it. She hadn't been sure about it, but Harry seemed pleased and had put it on straight away.

Whilst they were watching Harry open the rest of his presents, Tally arrived at the table and somewhat distracted Ron for a while.

However, once Madame Delacour, Fleur and Gabrielle – who got along well with Tally – arrived, the four of them quickly left the table and walked up the stairs.

"I'll pack these for you," Hermione said brightly, taking Harry's presents out of his arms. Amara and she had been taking clothes of Ron and Harry's and putting them in the beaded bag. Amara's stuff had all been packed and the books had been shoved in too. Neatly, of course, as Hermione insisted in being organised. "I'm nearly done, I'm just waiting for the rest of your underpants to come out of the wash, Ron —"

Ron's splutter and Amara's laugh was interrupted by the opening of Ginny's bedroom door.

"Harry, will you come in here a moment?"

Ron stopped so suddenly at Ginny's voice that Amara bumped into him. Together with Hermione, they yanked him up the stairs and out of the way.

Amara and Hermione went upstairs with a reluctant Ron and placed all of Harry's presents on his bed. They were about to put them in Hermione's bag when they realised that Ron had disappeared out the door. Amara groaned.

Running down the stairs, they heard a door slam open and Ron's voice.

" _Ron!"_

"What's going on?" asked Tally, who had come up from breakfast to get dressed. Ron's ears went red.

"Happy birthday, anyway, Harry," said Ginny from inside the room. Amara couldn't see much.

Harry appeared out the door and Ron marched off. Tally, after glancing at Amara with wide-eyes, quickly went to see her best friend in the bedroom. Amara and Hermione ran off after Ron and Harry, who were marching so quickly they had to trot to keep up.

They reached the garden before Ron looked around.

"I'm not messing her around," Harry was saying.

"She was really cut up when you ended it —"

"So was I. You know why I stopped it, and it wasn't because I wanted to."

"Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she's just going to get her hopes up again —"

"She's not an idiot, she knows it can't happen, she's not expecting us to — to end up married, or —"

"If you keep groping her every chance you get —"

"It won't happen again," said Harry harshly. "Okay?"

Ron looked conflicted and Amara was watching both carefully.

"Right then, well, that's . . . yeah."

During the day, Amara cheered up remarkably when Charlie arrived. She had got on very well with the second eldest brother and she was pleased to see him again. After giving him a hug and chatting, Mrs Weasley tried to force him to have a haircut. With Amara's intervention, he managed to escape with a slightly longer and less brutal haircut than he would have done. Once Jesse, Adrien and Noah (whom Mrs Weasley also invited), arrived, Noah distracted Charlie with talks about dragons for the rest of the afternoon.

Fred and George arrived early, mainly for Amara's benefit, and she spent a happy afternoon with Fred in the garden over the pretence of setting up the tables. They bewitched purple lanterns with 17 on them to hang in midair.

Hermione also added to the decoration, which made the whole atmosphere look very nice indeed. Hermione herself seemed pleased that Jesse was finally there and much better since their close escape.

Tally nearly made Ron faint when she came down wearing a very pretty set of dress robes and he had to deal with Harry, Amara, Fred and George laughing for a good hour over it.

Amara stuck next to Fred, even though he was meant to be greeting people at the gate. George seemed half-amused, half-irritated at this, but made no comment as Adrien elected himself to stand in Fred's place.

"Miss me?" he grinned at her when they wandered off.

"Always," Amara smirked.

Lupin, Tonks and Hagrid all arrived before seven o'clock.

"Seventeen, eh!" Hagrid was saying to Harry as Amara and Fred gave out wine to them. "Six years ter the day since we met, Harry, d'yeh remember it?"

"Vaguely," said Harry. "Didn't you smash down the front door, give Dudley a pig's tail, and tell me I was a wizard?"

"I forge' the details," Hagrid chortled as Amara giggled. "All righ', Ron, Amara, Hermione?"

"We're fine," said Hermione. "How are you?"

"Ar, not bad. Bin busy, we got some newborn unicorns, I'll show yeh when yeh get back —" Ron and Amara exchanged looks. "Here, Harry — couldn' think what ter get yeh, but then I remembered this." He pulled out a small, slightly furry drawstring pouch with a long string, evidently intended to be worn around the neck. "Mokeskin. Hide anythin' in there an' no one but the owner can get it out. They're rare, them."

"Hagrid, thanks!"

" 'S'nothin'," said Hagrid with a wave of a dustbin-lid-sized hand. "An' there's Charlie! Always liked him — hey! Charlie!"

Charlie approached, still unsure about his haircut. Noah was also with him, but Charlie did not seem to mind.

"Hi, Hagrid, how's it going?"

"Bin meanin' ter write fer ages. How's Norbert doin'?"

"Norbert?" Charlie laughed. "The Norwegian Ridgeback? We call her Norberta now."

"Wha — Norbert's a girl?"

"Oh yeah," said Charlie as Noah started to laugh.

"How can you tell?" asked Hermione.

"They're a lot more vicious," said Charlie. He looked over his shoulder and dropped his voice. "Wish Dad would hurry up and get here. Mum's getting edgy."

They all looked over at Mrs Weasley. She was trying to talk to Madame Delacour while glancing repeatedly at the gate.

"I think we'd better start without Arthur," she called to the garden at large after a moment or two. "He must have been held up at — oh!"

The reason for the gasp was a streak of light that came flying across the yard and onto the table. It landed neatly next to Harry's Snitch birthday cake, which Mrs Weasley had made. It was a weasel – a patronus – and it stood on its hind legs to speak to them all. From it came Mr Weasley's voice.

"Minister for Magic coming with me."

"We shouldn't be here," said Lupin at once. "Harry — I'm sorry — I'll explain another time —"

He seized Tonks's wrist and pulled her away; they reached the fence, climbed over it, and vanished from sight. Mrs Weasley looked bewildered.

"The Minister — but why — ? I don't understand —"

No one answered her; Mr Weasley had appeared at the gate with a man with hair like a lion and eyes to match. It was Rufus Scrimgeour. Amara had only seen him in photographs in the _Daily Prophet_ and the pamphlets explaining how to save families.

As opposed to Cornelius Fudge, who always seemed so neat, Scrimgeour was rough and scraggy. He looked as though he had seen a lot of things.

"Sorry to intrude," said Scrimgeour, as he limped to a halt before the table. "Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party. Many happy returns."

"Thanks," said Harry.

"I require a private word with you," Scrimgeour went on. "Also with Mr Ronald Weasley, Miss Amara Matthews and Miss Hermione Granger."

"Us?" said Ron, sounding surprised. Amara, also, was bemused by this. She looked at Fred, who was sitting next to her, and raised her eyebrows. Fred shrugged, but held her hand slightly tighter. "Why us?"

"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private," said Scrimgeour. "Is there such a place?" he demanded of Mr Weasley.

"Yes, of course," said Mr Weasley, who looked nervous. "The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?"

"You can lead the way," Scrimgeour said to Ron. "There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur."

Amara, with difficulty, got Fred to let go of her hand and stood up. Jesse, too, seemed reluctant to let Hermione go, and Tally was frowning at Scrimgeour.

 _What did the Minister for Magic want with_ them?

Surely – surely, he couldn't have figured out they weren't returning to Hogwarts? But, really, was it necessary for the Minister for Magic to come for them? It couldn't be that much of a deal … Amara was certain there were loads of muggleborns who weren't returning. Her siblings, for one, were already in France.

So what did he want?

Because, if he wanted information, Scrimgeour would most definitely just go for Harry.

They were all silent as they trooped back into the house, all overly aware of what they could be facing. Hermione looked worried, Ron was frowning.

Once entering the living room, Scrimgeour sat in Mr Weasley's chair whilst the four of them squeezed rather difficultly on the sofa.

"I have some questions for the three of you, and I think it will be best if we do it individually. If you three" — he pointed at Amara, Harry and Hermione — "can wait upstairs, I will start with Ronald."

"We're not going anywhere," said Harry, while Amara and Hermione nodded vigorously. "You can speak to us together, or not at all."

Scrimgeour gave Harry a cold, appraising look. Amara frowned at him, disliking him already. She had been irritated by Fudge; Scrimgeour seemed just as annoying.

"Very well then, together," he said, shrugging. He cleared his throat. "I am here, as I'm sure you know, because of Albus Dumbledore's will."


	9. The Will of Albus Dumbledore

**A/N Sorry about the delay - there's a flurry of birthdays in September, including my own, and we went away** ** _and_** **I'm sorting everything out for University in a week. But here it is! Enjoy!**

 ** _Chapter Nine_**

 ** _The Will of Albus Dumbledore_**

Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another. Amara was very surprised with this information. _Dumbledore had left them something?_

"A surprise, apparently! You were not aware then that Dumbledore had left you anything?" Scrimgeour spoke.

"A-all of us?" said Ron. "Me and Amara and Hermione too?"

"Yes, all of —"

But Harry interrupted.

"Dumbledore died over a month ago. Why has it taken this long to give us what he left us?"

"Isn't it obvious?" said Hermione, before Scrimgeour could answer. "They wanted to examine whatever he's left us. You had no right to do that!" she said, and her voice trembled slightly.

"I had every right," said Scrimgeour dismissively. "The Decree for Justifiable Confiscation gives the Ministry the power to confiscate the contents of a will —"

"That law was created to stop wizards passing on Dark artifacts," said Hermione, "and the Ministry is supposed to have powerful evidence that the deceased's possessions are illegal before seizing them! Are you telling me that you thought Dumbledore was trying to pass us something cursed?"

"Are you planning to follow a career in Magical Law, Miss Granger?" asked Scrimgeour.

"No, I'm not," retorted Hermione. "I'm hoping to do some good in the world!"

Amara and Ron laughed. Scrimgeour's eyes flickered toward them both and away again as Harry spoke.

"So why have you decided to let us have our things now? Can't think of a pretext to keep them?"

"No, it'll be because the thirty-one days are up," said Hermione at once. "They can't keep the objects longer than that unless they can prove they're dangerous. Right?"

"Would you say you were close to Dumbledore, Ronald?" asked Scrimgeour, ignoring Hermione. Ron looked startled.

"Me? Not — not really . . . It was always Harry who . . ."

Ron looked around at Amara, Harry and Hermione. Amara looked blankly back, but Hermione seemed to want Ron to stop talking immediately. And Amara knew why: Scrimgeour seemed to dive on this information with a strange eagerness.

"If you were not very close to Dumbledore, how do you account for the fact that he remembered you in his will? He made exceptionally few personal bequests. The vast majority of his possessions — his private library, his magical instruments, and other personal effects — were left to Hogwarts. Why do you think you were singled out?"

"I . . . dunno," said Ron. "I . . . when I say we weren't close . . . I mean, I think he liked me. . . ."

"You're being modest, Ron," said Hermione. "Dumbledore was very fond of you."

Scrimgeour did not seem to be listening. He put his hand inside his cloak and drew out a drawstring pouch much larger than the one Hagrid had given Harry. From it, he removed a scroll of parchment which he unrolled and read aloud.

" _'_ _The Last Will and Testament of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore'_ . . . Yes, here we are. . . . ' _To Ronald Bilius Weasley, I leave my Deluminator, in the hope that he will remember me when he uses it.' "_

From the bag, Scrimgeour pulled out what looked like a silver cigarette lighter. Amara looked at it, confused. Scrimgeour passed the Deluminator to Ron, who looked stunned.

"That is a valuable object," said Scrimgeour, watching Ron. "It may even be unique. Certainly it is of Dumbledore's own design. Why would he have left you an item so rare?"

Ron shook his head, looking bewildered.

"Dumbledore must have taught thousands of students," Scrimgeour persevered. "Yet the only ones he remembered in his will are you four. Why is that? To what use did he think you would put his Deluminator, Mr Weasley?"

"Put out lights, I s'pose," mumbled Ron. "What else could I do with it?"

Evidently Scrimgeour had no suggestions. After squinting at Ron for a moment or two, he turned back to Dumbledore's will.

" _'_ _To Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I leave my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, in the hope that she will find it entertaining and instructive.'_ "

From the bag the Minister for Magic pulled an ancient book, which was practically falling apart. When Scrimgeour handed it to Hermione, Amara saw that its title was in runes. She could read them quite easily.

"Why do you think Dumbledore left you that book, Miss Granger?" asked Scrimgeour.

"He . . . he knew I liked books," said Hermione in a thick voice, mopping her eyes with her sleeve.

"But why that particular book?"

"I don't know. He must have thought I'd enjoy it."

"Did you ever discuss codes, or any means of passing secret messages, with Dumbledore?"

"No, I didn't," said Hermione, still wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "And if the Ministry hasn't found any hidden codes in this book in thirty-one days, I doubt that I will."

She suppressed a sob. Amara tried to comfort her, but they were squeezed so much on the sofa she couldn't actually move. Scrimgeour turned back to the will.

" ' _To Miss Amara Marie Matthews, I leave my own pocket watch, in the hope that she shall always know where she needs to be,'_ Scrimegeour looked up at Amara, who's eyes filled with tears. Scrimgeour reached into the bag again and brought out a golden watch, which had been put on a chain.

Amara opened it. It was a strange watch; it had no numbers, except there were twelve planets moving around the edge. Amara stared at it blankly. She'd always been bad at Astronomy.

"That's a strange watch, Miss Matthews," said Scrimgeour. "No one particularly knows how it works, yet Dumbledore understood it perfectly. Why would he have left it to you?"

"I dunno," said Amara, still struggling with tears. "Maybe he hoped I'd get better at Astronomy."

Ron stifled a snort. Scrimgeour ignored this and seemed irritated by her response.

" _'_ _To Harry James Potter_ ,' " he carried on, " _'I leave the Snitch he caught in his first Quidditch match at Hogwarts, as a reminder of the rewards of perseverance and skill.'_ "

And so Scrimgeour retrieved the Snitch from the bag, and Amara felt rather disappointed. What did Harry want with an old snitch?

"Why did Dumbledore leave you this Snitch?" asked Scrimgeour.

"No idea," said Harry. "For the reasons you just read out, I suppose . . . to remind me what you can get if you . . . persevere and whatever it was."

"You think this a mere symbolic keepsake, then?"

"I suppose so," said Harry. "What else could it be?"

"I'm asking the questions," said Scrimgeour, shifting his chair a little closer to the sofa. Dusk was really falling outside now; the marquee beyond the windows towered ghostly white over the hedge.

"I notice that your birthday cake is in the shape of a Snitch," Scrimgeour said to Harry. "Why is that?"

Hermione laughed derisively.

"Oh, it can't be a reference to the fact Harry's a great Seeker, that's way too obvious," she said. "There must be a secret message from Dumbledore hidden in the icing!"

"I don't think there's anything hidden in the icing," said Scrimgeour, "but a Snitch would be a very good hiding place for a small object. You know why, I'm sure?"

Harry shrugged. Hermione, however, answered.

"Because Snitches have flesh memories," she said.

"What?" said Amara, Harry and Ron together; Hermione's knowledge of Quidditch was about the same as Amara's likeness for History of Magic.

"Correct," said Scrimgeour. "A Snitch is not touched by bare skin before it is released, not even by the maker, who wears gloves. It carries an enchantment by which it can identify the first human to lay hands upon it, in case of a disputed capture. This Snitch" — he held up the tiny golden ball — "will remember your touch, Potter. It occurs to me that Dumbledore, who had prodigious magical skill, whatever his other faults, might have enchanted this Snitch so that it will open only for you."

"You don't say anything," said Scrimgeour. "Perhaps you already know what the Snitch contains?"

"No," said Harry.

"Take it," said Scrimgeour quietly.

Harry held out his hand, and Scrimgeour leaned forward again and placed the Snitch, slowly and deliberately, into Harry's palm. Amara didn't realise she was holding a breath until she released it in the suspense. Nothing happened when the snitch touched Harry.

"That was dramatic," said Harry coolly. Amara, Ron and Hermione laughed.

"That's all, then, is it?" asked Hermione, making to prise herself off the sofa.

"Not quite," said Scrimgeour, who looked bad-tempered now. "Dumbledore left you a second bequest, Potter."

"What is it?" asked Harry, excitement rekindling.

Scrimgeour did not bother to read from the will this time.

"The sword of Godric Gryffindor," he said.

Amara, Hermione and Ron all stiffened in surprise. Dumbledore had left Harry the sword of Godric Gryffindor? But there wasn't any room in that bag …

"So where is it?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Unfortunately," said Scrimgeour, "that sword was not Dumbledore's to give away. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artifact, and as such, belongs —"

"It belongs to Harry!" said Hermione hotly. "It chose him, he was the one who found it, it came to him out of the Sorting Hat —"

"According to reliable historical sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor," said Scrimgeour. "That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr Potter, whatever Dumbledore may have decided." Scrimgeour scratched his badly shaven cheek, scrutinizing Harry. "Why do you think — ?"

"— Dumbledore wanted to give me the sword?" said Harry, who seemed to be trying to keep his temper in check, but failing magnificently. "Maybe he thought it would look nice on my wall."

"This is not a joke, Potter!" growled Scrimgeour. "Was it because Dumbledore believed that only the sword of Godric Gryffindor could defeat the Heir of Slytherin? Did he wish to give you that sword, Potter, because he believed, as do many, that you are the one destined to destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Interesting theory," said Harry. "Has anyone ever tried sticking a sword in Voldemort? Maybe the Ministry should put some people onto that, instead of wasting their time stripping down Deluminators or covering up breakouts from Azkaban. So is this what you've been doing, Minister, shut up in your office, trying to break open a Snitch? People are dying — I was nearly one of them — Voldemort chased me across three counties, he killed Mad-Eye Moody, but there's been no word about any of that from the Ministry, has there? And you still expect us to cooperate with you!"

"You go too far!" shouted Scrimgeour, standing up; Harry jumped to his feet too. Scrimgeour limped toward Harry and jabbed him hard in the chest with the point of his wand, making a little hole.

"Hey!" Amara said sharply at the same time Ron said: "Oi!" and whipped out his wand.

"No! D'you want to give him an excuse to arrest us?" Harry said quickly.

"Remembered you're not at school, have you?" said Scrimgeour, breathing hard into Harry's face. "Remembered that I am not Dumbledore, who forgave your insolence and insubordination? You may wear that scar like a crown, Potter, but it is not up to a seventeen-year-old boy to tell me how to do my job! It's time you learned some respect!"

"It's time you earned it," said Harry.

Mr and Mrs Weasley burst into the living room then.

"We — we thought we heard —" began Mr Weasley, looking thoroughly alarmed at the sight of Harry and the Minister virtually nose to nose.

"— raised voices," panted Mrs Weasley.

Scrimgeour took a couple of steps back from Harry, glancing at the hole he had made in Harry's T-shirt. He seemed to regret his loss of temper.

"It — it was nothing," he growled. "I . . . regret your attitude," he said, looking Harry full in the face once more. "You seem to think that the Ministry does not desire what you — what Dumbledore — desired. We ought to be working together."

"I don't like your methods, Minister," said Harry. "Remember?"

Harry raised his right fist, showing _I must not tell lies_ in the Minister's face. Amara looked briefly down to her own hand, where words were scarred. They were fainter than Harry's, of course, but they were still there, all the same. Scrimgeour's expression hardened. He turned away without another word and limped from the room. Mrs Weasley hurried after him.

A minute or so later, Mrs Weasley said he had gone and came running back into the room.

"What did he want?"

"To give us what Dumbledore left us," said Harry. "They've only just released the contents of his will."

They returned to the garden with their new belongings. All four objects were passed round the table – Amara's new pocket watch was examined with precision, as she was hoping at least someone knew how to work it. What did it show? How did it work? But no one knew. Everyone liked Ron's Deluminator and carefully handled Hermione's new book and were frustrated that Scrimgeour had refused Harry the sword.

"This is an interesting watch," said Mr Weasley thoughtfully. He turned it over. "I wonder how it works? Does it tell the time?"

Mr Weasley also liked Ron's Deluminator and studied it rather a lot. Because of how long they had been with Scrimgeour, they all ate rather hurriedly before singing 'Happy Birthday' and breaking the party up.

Hermione seemed disappointed that Jesse had to leave so quickly. But he had to work in the morning before the Wedding so he could have the afternoon off, and he, Adrien and Noah left rather quickly. Hagrid left to set up a tent to sleep in before the wedding as the others dispersed inside.

Amara made a smirking George wait inside so she could say good-bye to Fred outside, and out the way of the prying eyes of the rest of his family members. Specifically, Charlie and George and Bill.

"I bought you something," said Fred when the rest had all disappeared.

Amara looked up at him, surprised. "What? It's Harry's birthday, not mine."

"So? I wanted to," said Fred. He grinned and brought out a box. It was a necklace, on a silver chain with a small locket on the end. Inside was a miniscule picture of tiny figures. It was a picture of her and Fred.

Amara was touched, even more so by Fred's unusual soft side. He didn't usually show it very much, instead opting for jokes.

"I love it!" Amara beamed at him and kissed him quickly. "Thank you, Fred!"

Fred's ears seemed to be going red and Amara giggled and pulled him inside.

-OOOOO-

When Amara got in and Fred had finally left, Hermione told her that they were meeting in Harry and Ron's room when everyone had gone to bed.

It took a while for Ginny and Tally to fall asleep; they seemed eager to talk to them for ages before they finally dropped off. When they're breathing slowed, Amara and Hermione crept out her room and hurried up the stairs to Ron's room. Hermione tapped on the door and they both went inside.

 _"_ _Muffliato,"_ whispered Hermione, pointing at the stairs.

"Thought you didn't approve of that spell?" said Ron. Both he and Harry were lying on their respective beds.

"Times change," said Hermione. "Now, show us that Deluminator."

Ron clicked the Deluminator and the one lamp which was giving off a dull glow went out.

"The thing is," whispered Hermione through the dark, "we could have achieved that with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder."

There was a small click, and the ball of light from the lamp flew back to the ceiling and illuminated them all once more.

"Still, it's cool," said Ron, a little defensively. "And from what they said, Dumbledore invented it himself!"

"I know, but surely he wouldn't have singled you out in his will just to help us turn out the lights!"

"D'you think he knew the Ministry would confiscate his will and examine everything he'd left us?" asked Harry.

"Definitely," said Hermione. "He couldn't tell us in the will why he was leaving us these things, but that still doesn't explain . . ."

". . . why he couldn't have given us a hint when he was alive?" asked Ron.

"Well, exactly," said Hermione, now flicking through _The Tales of Beedle the Bard,_ which she'd brought with her. Amara, too, had the pocket watch around her neck (along with the necklace Fred gave her). "If these things are important enough to pass on right under the nose of the Ministry, you'd think he'd have let us know why . . . unless he thought it was obvious?"

"Thought wrong, then, didn't he?" said Ron. "I always said he was mental. Brilliant and everything, but cracked. Leaving Harry an old Snitch — what the hell was that about?"

"I've no idea," said Hermione. "When Scrimgeour made you take it, Harry, I was so sure that something was going to happen!"

"Yeah, well," said Harry. "I wasn't going to try too hard in front of Scrimgeour, was I?"

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"The Snitch I caught in my first ever Quidditch match?" said Harry. "Don't you remember?"

Ron and Amara gasped in realisation; Hermione, however, looked bemused. Whilst Ron was pointed frantically from Harry to the Snitch and back again, Amara divulged in giving Hermione the answer.

"That's the one you nearly swallowed!"

"Exactly," said Harry, and he pressed his mouth to the Snitch. Amara watched eagerly to see if anything happened. When nothing did, she couldn't help feel a flash of disappointment.

"Writing! There's writing on it, quick, look!" Hermione cried suddenly, pointing at the Snitch.

Amara and Ron leaned forward to look at the Snitch better. Hermione was right; there were little engraved words upon the Snitch's surface in slanting writing.

 _I open at the close._

" 'I open at the close . . .' What's that supposed to mean?"

Amara, Hermione and Ron shook their heads, looking blank. Amara had no idea what that meant. Why did Dumbledore have to be so obscure?

"I open at the close . . . at the _close_ . . . I open at the close . . ."

Sitting there for several minutes gave them no answer.

"And the sword," said Ron finally, when they had at last abandoned their attempts to divine meaning in the Snitch's inscription. "Why did he want Harry to have the sword?"

"And why couldn't he just have told me?" Harry said quietly. "It was _there_ , it was right there on the wall of his office during all our talks last year! If he wanted me to have it, why didn't he just give it to me then?"

"You sure he never mentioned how you work this pocket watch?" Amara asked, looking at the little hands. They didn't seem to be moving. The planets on the edge moved differently to the hands but Amara was absolutely clueless on how it worked.

"I dunno," said Harry. "He could tell the time on it, though. He pulled it out after the fight in the Ministry."

"Maybe only Dumbledore could use it," said Ron. "Maybe he's made it so it works in a different way. Something that'll help us, or something."

"Hmm, I'm not sure. But as for this book," said Hermione, " _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ . . . I've never even heard of them!"

"You've never heard of _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_?" said Ron incredulously. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not!" said Hermione in surprise. "Do you know them, then?"

"Well, of course I do!"

Amara and Harry exchanged surprised glances. Since when had Ron read a book that Hermione hadn't?

"Oh come on! All the old kids' stories are supposed to be Beedle's, aren't they? 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune' . . . 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot' . . . 'Babbitty Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump' . . ."

"Excuse me?" said Hermione, giggling. "What was that last one?

"Come off it!" said Ron, looking in disbelief at them all. "You must've heard of Babbitty Rabbitty —"

"Ron, you know full well Amara, Harry and I were brought up by Muggles!" said Hermione. "We didn't hear stories like that when we were little, we heard 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs' and 'Cinderella' —"

"What's that, an illness?" asked Ron.

"Nearly," said Amara.

"So these are children's stories?" asked Hermione, bending again over the runes and ignoring Amara.

"Yeah," said Ron uncertainly, "I mean, that's just what you hear, you know, that all these old stories came from Beedle. I dunno what they're like in the original versions."

"But I wonder why Dumbledore thought I should read them?"

Something creaked downstairs.

"Probably just Charlie, now Mum's asleep, sneaking off to regrow his hair a bit more," said Ron nervously.

"All the same, we should get to bed," whispered Hermione. "It wouldn't do to oversleep tomorrow."

"No," agreed Ron. "A brutal quadruple murder by the bridegroom's mother might put a bit of a damper on the wedding. I'll get the lights."

The lights turned off as Hermione and Amara, who was smothering a laugh, left the room and returned downstairs into Ginny's bedroom.


	10. The Wedding

**_A/N Hi guys! Sorry for the month of absence - I've been moving into my university and everything has been hectic since then! I've settled down a bit now - don't know how many chapters I'll be able to write what with the workload, however, but luckily I still have up to chapter eighteen already written. So, enjoy the chapter! xx_**

 ** _Chapter Ten_**

 ** _The Wedding_**

Amara was in Ginny's bedroom stuffing Ron and Harry's rucksacks into Hermione's beaded bag. She'd had to root around for Ron's bigger jeans, but had a feeling she'd packed the wrong ones. Hermione had told her she had wanted to be completely prepared 'just-in-case', but was taking so long getting ready that Amara said she'd start.

Amara was wearing a nice floaty dress with thin straps in a pale pink colour with a pair of silver high heels. She'd kept Fred's necklace on and her charm bracelet – which she and Hermione had been giving each other charms for every year, but had put Dumbledore's watch in the beaded bag as it didn't match. Hermione's dress was similar, in lilac, but with longer sleeves instead of straps.

Succeeding in getting the boys' bags into Hermione's, Amara decided to leave the Burrow for the garden, which was rather busy because everyone was trying to get changed and help Ginny, Tally, Gabrielle and Fleur into their wedding things. Fleur already looked beautiful.

"Here you go," said Amara, meeting Hermione on the stairs. She'd apparently just done her hair, as it was no longer curly but rather sleek and shiny. Amara couldn't wait to see Jesse's reaction.

"Thanks," Hermione said distractedly. "I just need to finish getting ready myself and then I'll check the bag. I really have a feeling about today …"

"You think that'll we'll leave today?" Amara said in a hushed voice.

"Maybe," said Hermione. "I don't know for _sure."_

"Well, I think I'll spend my time with Fred, then," said Amara, feeling rather put-down.

"Same here," nodded Hermione. "But with Jesse, obviously."

Hermione bit her lip slightly, her brow furrowed. Amara leant forward and hugged her tightly.

"We'll be OK," she said, trying to believe it. " _They'll_ be OK."

She drew back and smiled. Hermione brushed her eyes slightly.

"Yeah," Hermione said.

"We're prepared," Amara said. "We're prepared as much as we could. I mean, not that we know too much, but, I think we've got the most part covered."

Hermione grinned at that.

When they'd parted ways, Amara headed outside and into the sunny garden. Harry, Ron, Fred and George had been given the task of directing people to their seats when they started to arrive. Harry had taken a large dose of Polyjuice potion with the hairs of a muggle boy that Fred had managed to summon. He no longer looked like Harry at all, with his curly red hair and being a bit plump.

Seeing the four of them standing in the garden, all looking very smart in their dress robes, Amara hurried toward them and tuned in to what they were saying.

"When Amara and I get married," Fred was saying, "Hopefully, anyway. I won't be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like, and I'll put a full Body-Bind Curse on Mum until it's all over."

Amara blinked and grinned slightly. Fred wanted to marry her? Not now, obviously, not when they were so young. And only dating for eight months.

"Only if Amara says yes," chortled George in reply. "Mum wasn't too bad this morning, considering, anyways. Cried a bit about Percy not being here, but who wants him? Oh blimey, brace yourselves — here they come, look."

Whilst they started craning their necks to look at the brightly coloured figures appearing in the distance, Amara crept up to Fred.

"I'll join you in the Body-Bind," she said, smirking.

Fred jumped, looked round, saw Amara and blushed around his ears. Harry, Ron and George burst into laughter as Fred gaped slightly.

"You heard that?" Fred said.

Amara grinned and nodded. "Don't worry about it," she said. "I quite like the idea myself. Don't think your mum would, though."

Fred continued to stare, and started to realise what Amara was wearing.

"Wow, you look gorgeous!"

She laughed and blushed, hitting him on the arm. Fred's expression was slightly dazed and his ears were slightly red.

"Once you've got your eyes in, brother, I think I see a few veela cousins," said George, after smothering his laughter somewhat. "They'll need help understanding our English customs, I'll look after them . . . Excuse me."

Off he hopped, darting round a gaggle of middle-aged witches and toward two pretty French girls, who giggled at his attempt of French.

Amara swiftly duplicated a copy of the seat plans and helped take the middle-aged witches off to their seats, leaving Fred still looking a bit shell-shocked and left to deal with an elderly gentleman.

When Amara walked into the marquee for the second time, she found that Hagrid was causing a certain amount of disruption. Having misunderstood Fred's directions, he had sat himself, not upon the magically enlarged and reinforced seat set aside for him in the back row, but on five seats that now resembled a large pile of golden matchsticks.

Amara hurried forward and repaired the chairs quickly with Mr Weasley as Hagrid shouted his apologies, which no one was really listening to. Amara saw Harry looking amused as he left the tent, still looking odd when disguised as Barny Weasley.

"Oh yes - Amara, Molly was asking for you," said Mr Weasley, wiping his forehead. He looked rather stressed. "Something about doing Tally's hair."

Amara supressed a groan as Mr Weasley hurried off again but went inside anyway.

It was rather hectic. Fleur was getting put into her dress, which was very simple and white, yet when on Fleur, looked as though it was the most extravagant dress in the world.

Tally, Ginny and Gabrielle were all in their matching golden dresses and looking very pretty indeed. Mrs Weasley was sorting out Fleur and Ginny was helping Gabrielle. Tally brightened when seeing Amara.

"Amara! Can you please do my hair? Eet will be _so_ much easier if I was of age," she said.

"Of course," said Amara, moving forward. She managed to get Tally's hair looking like a shimmering waterfall, with a plait and curls tumbling down.

As she had finished, there was a small commotion with a very old woman with a beaky nose and a pink feathery hat came in holding a box. She turned out to be Mrs Weasley's Great Aunt Muriel.

"Molly!" she shouted, quite unnecessarily in the small room. "I have my tiara! Goblin-made, you know," she added to the others. "Ah, you're the bride, are you?" she said to Fleur. Muriel looked her up and down and seemed to accept this. She then looked around beadily, greeting Ginny – " _Ginevra,_ haven't seen you in a long time." – and seeing Gabrielle, Tally and Amara.

"Are you two sisters?" she asked of Gabrielle and Tally.

"No," said Tally. "I'm Tallulah Reynolds. I'm Amara's cousin."

"Amara?" questioned Muriel, looking at Amara. "Hmm, so _you're_ one of the Muggleborns, hm?" Mrs Weasley looked embarrassed. "Well, you're not too bad, I suppose. Skinny, though. Are you the one courting Frederick?"

"Yes," said Amara.

"Hm, I don't care much for Frederick. Too many jokes," she practically yelled. "Not a surprise, really, if he went for someone like you –"

"Let's see the tiara, Muriel!" Mrs Weasley practically shrieked, looking horrified. Tally looked outraged, but Amara ignored it all. She didn't care what some old woman thought.

Ron came in to fetch Muriel after she'd bored them all in how to put a tiara on, whilst Amara had done Ginny and Gabrielle's hair so it matched Tally's. All three looked very beautiful indeed. By the time Amara re-emerged into the garden, most of the guests had been seated already.

She ducked into the marquee, seeing Luna and a man who was unmistakeably her father wearing egg-yolk yellow clothes. She thought they were quite nice, albeit hard to look at. She found Harry and Ron outside the tent, both seemingly just finished.

"Nightmare, Muriel is," said Ron as Amara came over. "She used to come for Christmas every year, then, thank God, she took offense because Fred and George set off a Dungbomb under her chair at dinner. Dad always says she'll have written them out of her will — like they care, they're going to end up richer than anyone in the family, rate they're going. . . oh look, there's Hermione. You look good!" he said to Hermione as she reached them. "You too, Amara. Nice dress."

"Your Great-Aunt Muriel doesn't agree, I just met her upstairs before she gave Fleur the tiara. She said, 'Oh dear, is this one of the Muggle-borns?' and then, 'Bad posture and skinny ankles.'"

"I met her too," Amara said. "She said I was too skinny and she wasn't surprised Fred went for someone like me, because she doesn't like him very much."

"Merlin, really?" Ron groaned. "Don't take it personally, she's rude to everyone. That's a new low, though."

"Talking about Muriel?" inquired George, re-emerging from the marquee with Fred. "Yeah, she's just told me my ears are lopsided. Old bat. I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us, though; he was a right laugh at weddings."

"Wasn't he the one who saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later?" asked Hermione.

"Well, yeah, he went a bit odd toward the end," conceded George.

"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party," said Fred. "He used to down an entire bottle of firewhisky, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his —"

"Yes, he sounds a real charmer," said Hermione, while Amara and Harry roared with laughter.

"Never married, for some reason," said Ron.

"You amaze me," said Hermione.

They were all laughing so much that they hardly noticed Jesse, Adrien and Noah had arrived.

"Jesse!" Hermione practically squealed. Jesse, who looked handsome in a set of dark blue robes, stared at Hermione.

"You look amazing!"

Hermione blushed as everyone chortled slightly as Jesse tried to blink himself out of the daze. Adrien and Noah looked very amused as well.

"You can't laugh, Freddo," snorted George, nudging his twin, who was indeed laughing. "You couldn't put your eyes back in when you saw Amara –"

He ended up yelping as Fred whacked him on the arm whilst the others laughed.

They were all laughing so much that none of them noticed the latecomer, a dark-haired young man with a large, curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He handed his invitation to Ron, who stopped laughing and stared.

"How come you're invited?" he asked, in a slightly choked sort of voice. Amara snorted. Krum's eyes roved around the group, resting on Hermione and Amara in turn, making Jesse and Fred stiffen. Amara very nearly snorted again.

"Fleur invited me," said Krum.

Harry shook hands with Krum as Ron seemed unable to do so, and took him inside the tent. George took Adrien and Noah to their seats whilst the others tarried outside.

"We should probably go in," said Fred, looking at his watch. He took Amara's hand and walked towards the marquee. Ron, Jesse and Hermione followed.

George met them on the inside and they hurried over to Harry together.

"Time to sit down," Fred told Harry, "or we're going to get run over by the bride."

Amara sat next to Fred and Harry, practically brimming with excitement. Hermione was with Jesse and Ron and George sat either side of Harry and Fred.

There was a sense of anticipation filling the tent as everyone was excitedly waiting for the procession. Amara hadn't ever been to a wizard wedding before and she'd only been to her Auntie's when she was five.

Mr and Mrs Weasley soon strolled up the aisle, Mrs Weasley looking very nice in amethyst coloured robes. Bill and Charlie, with white roses in their buttonholes, stood up at the front. Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling from the veela cousins. Amara glared at them whilst Fred smirked.

The music swelled and the crowd fell silent.

"Ooooh!" said Hermione, swivelling around in her seat to look at the entrance. Amara mirrored her, squeezing Fred's hand.

There was a sigh as Monsieur Delacour and Fleur came up the aisle. Fleur, of course, was stunning. Following them were Ginny, Gabrielle and Tally, all beaming. Amara leaned round Harry to see Ron's stupefied look. Tally was practically glowing.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said a slightly singsong voice from the small tufty haired wizard, who had been at Dumbledore's funeral. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls . . ."

"Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely," said Auntie Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. "But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low cut."

Amara smiled as the tufty man continued speaking. It was beautiful, really, the whole thing. Though it had been so much stress and work, it was a great ceremony. And, who knew, she may be in a white dress herself, walking up the aisle … she'd have to persuade Fred to maybe wear a pair of dress robes …

"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle . . . ?"

Amara felt herself getting teary-eyed, clutching Fred's hand. She wasn't the only one. Madame Delacour and Mrs Weasley were sobbing in the front row, Hagrid was blowing trumpet-like sounds at the back and Hermione was watery-eyed like herself.

". . . then I declare you bonded for life."

Amara turned to Fred and grinned at him. He grinned back.

The tufty-haired wizard waved his wand high over the heads of Bill and Fleur and a shower of silver stars fell upon them, spiralling around their now entwined figures. As Fred and George led a round of applause, the golden balloons overhead burst: Birds of paradise and tiny golden bells flew and floated out of them, adding their songs and chimes to the din.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" called the tufty-haired wizard. "If you would please stand up!"

Everyone got up, Great Aunt Muriel grumbling loudly, and the wizard waved his wand again. The seats rose into the air and the canvas walls of the marquee vanished so they could see the glorious countryside and orchard beyond.

The dance floor was formed by a pool of molten gold and small white tables were surrounded by the chairs they had sat on. A band also trooped in as waiters popped up.

"Smooth," said Ron approvingly.

"We should go and congratulate them!" said Hermione, holding Jesse's hand and standing on tiptoe to see the place where Bill and Fleur had vanished amid a crowd of well-wishers.

"We'll have time later," shrugged Ron, who was also looking over, but for a much different reason: Tally had just emerged from the crowd and was hurrying over.

"Wasn't eet lovely?" she said, beaming brightly. She looked at Ron. "You look nice," she grinned.

Ron's ears went red. "You look – you look very pretty."

"This is becoming a theme," said George as Adrien and Noah wandered over, clutching firewhiskeys. "Oh, good, people who haven't gone lovey-eyed at the girls."

He went over to join Adrien and Noah as the band started to play. Bill and Fleur started dancing first, followed by Mr Weasley and Madame Delacour, then Mrs Weasley and Monsieur Delacour. Before long, the dance floor began filling up.

Soon, Jesse and Hermione had vanished onto the floor; Tally and Ron had mysteriously disappeared and Harry wandered off to sit with Luna.

"Want to dance?" asked Fred.

"Thought you'd never ask," Amara replied.

Laughing, Fred led her onto the floor whilst a nice waltzing tune was on. Together, they managed to clear a little circle around them, as Fred decided to dance rather exuberantly with her, making her laugh the whole time.

They danced for a long time. Amara had half-forgotten about the whole war-aspect of things and had delved into the niceness of being able to dance so freely. Noah and George had managed to snag a couple of veela cousins to dance with – seemingly having had a few firewhiskeys already – and Adrien was talking to Lee Jordan. Ginny was dancing with Luna.

After a while, when evening started drawing in, they went to see the cake being cut and get a few glasses of champagne.

"Don't let Mum see you," Fred said when they sneaked off with it. "She'll slit my throat."

The champagne made her slightly light-headed, and after dancing more they decided to go into a corner for a little more privacy. Looking round, she saw Ron and Tally in a corner themselves; Hermione and Jesse were still on the dance floor; Ginny was dancing with Lee; Noah and George had disappeared into the darkness with the veela cousins and Harry was talking to a small man who Amara believed was Elphias Doge.

Amara nearly giggled when she saw Hagrid, Charlie and another wizard singing 'Odo the Hero' and swigging firewhiskeys back; one of the Weasley's uncles was making a nuisance of himself by falling over every chair.

She was distracted somewhat by Fred, and she hardly noticed much from then, just happily sitting in the corner and hoping Mrs Weasley wasn't looking.

She did, however, resurface when something large and silver came falling through the canopy over the dance floor. It was a lynx patronus, gleaming and astonishing the dancers into freezing. It then opened its mouth and spoke in Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice.

 _"_ _The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

Then, there was confusion.

Amara and Fred leapt to their feet, drawing their wands quickly. No one knew what was going on, silence was descending upon the marquee as Amara's heart began to thud. Someone screamed and everyone jumped into action.

"Go!" Fred suddenly said, pushing her forward. "Amara – you need to _go._ Find the others!"

"But –" Amara couldn't. She didn't want to. She didn't know if she'd see him again. Fred was seemingly thinking the same thing. The people around them were sprinting in all directions, disapparating as the enchantments disappeared. Masked figures were appearing around them – there were screams and jets of light.

Fred kissed her hard on the lips, then pushed her into the crowd. "Find them!"

And with a last, brief look, at her white-face boyfriend, Amara turned and threw herself into the crowd, desperately looking for Harry, Ron and Hermione.


	11. Fight in the Cafe

**_A/N Hey guys (if you're still there) here's chapter eleven. Sorry for the random times I update but life is very crazy at the moment. Also, please PLEASE leave a review - not having them doesn't make me want to update. So thank you soooo much to everyone who DOES review to this story :)) you are all the best. Enjoy the chapter! xx_**

 ** _Chapter Eleven_**

 ** _Fight in the Café_**

"Ron! Harry! Hermione!" Amara pushed against the terrified people, who were all buffeting people out their way to get to safety. " _Ron! Harry! Hermione!"_

In her anxious state, she wondered why on earth they were all split up for the wedding – where _were_ they?

"Amara!"

Amara whipped around and saw Harry battling his way towards her.

"Harry!" Amara half-sobbed. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"I don't know!" Harry said, looking panicked as jets of light went over their heads. He grabbed her hand and pulled her through the crowds so they wouldn't get split up.

Hermione appeared out of nowhere, Jesse right behind her. She seemed to be struggling to get rid of him.

Amara grabbed her hand and pulled her away quickly – Hermione looked tearful – and continued to battle for Ron.

Finally, they found him. Tally had disappeared, Ron looking shaken but he hurried over to them and grabbed Hermione's arm. Hermione turned on the spot and Amara felt them all being squeezed tightly as they disapparated away. Away from Fred and away from everyone else.

"Where are we?" asked Ron as Amara looked around her.

"Tottenham Court Road," panted Hermione. "Walk, just walk, we need to find somewhere for you to change."

They all complied and half-walked, half-ran up the dark street which was filled with late-night revellers. They were attracting a lot of weird looks; Harry and Ron were wearing dress robes.

"Hermione, we haven't got anything to change into," Ron told her, as a young woman burst into raucous giggles at the sight of him.

"Why didn't I make sure I had the Invisibility Cloak with me?" said Harry. "All last year I kept it on me and —"

"It's okay, we've got the Cloak, we've got clothes for both of you," said Hermione. "Just try and act naturally until — this will do."

She led them down a side street, then into the shelter of a shadowy alleyway.

"When you say you two have got the Cloak, and clothes . . ." said Harry, frowning at Hermione and Amara.

"Yes, they're here," said Hermione, pulling out clothes and Harry's Cloak.

"How the ruddy hell — ?"

"Undetectable Extension Charm," said Hermione. "Tricky, but I think I've done it okay; anyway, I managed to fit everything we need in here." She gave it a rattle. "Oh, damn, that'll be the books," she said, peering into it, "and I had them all stacked by subject . . . Oh well . . . Harry, you'd better take the Invisibility Cloak. Ron, hurry up and change . . ."

"When did you two do all this?" Harry asked as Ron stripped off his robes.

"I told you at the Burrow, we've had the essentials packed for days, you know, in case we needed to make a quick getaway. Amara packed your rucksack this morning, Harry, after you changed, and put it in here . . . I just had a feeling . . ."

"You're amazing, you are," said Ron, handing her his bundled up robes.

"Thank you," said Hermione, managing a small smile as she pushed the robes into the bag. "Please, Harry, get that Cloak on!"

Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak around his shoulders and pulled it up over his head, vanishing from sight.

"The others — everyone at the wedding —" came his voice. Amara was thinking the same thing. Had Fred and the others got out OK?

"We can't worry about that now," whispered Hermione, looking as though she was worrying about it quite a lot. "It's you they're after, Harry, and we'll just put everyone in even more danger by going back."

"She's right," said Ron, "Most of the Order was there, they'll look after everyone."

"Yeah," came Harry's reply.

"Let's go," Amara said quickly, not wanting to think about everyone.

They moved back up the side street and onto the main road again, where a group of men on the opposite side was singing and weaving across the pavement.

"Just as a matter of interest, why Tottenham Court Road?" Ron asked Hermione.

"I've no idea, it just popped into my head, but I'm sure we're safer out in the Muggle world, it's not where they'll expect us to be."

"True," said Ron, looking around, "but don't you feel a bit — exposed?"

"Where else is there?" asked Hermione.

Amara tried to ignore the men on the other side of the road. They had started wolf-whistling at her and Hermione. She felt rather exposed in her dress, and Hermione was cringing too.

"We can hardly book rooms at the Leaky Cauldron, can we? And Grimmauld Place is out if Snape can get in there . . . I suppose we could try my parents' house, though I think there's a chance they might check there . . . Oh, I wish they'd shut up!"

"All right, darlings?" it seemed to be the drunkest man who had begun yelling. Amara wanted to punch him. "Fancy a few drinks? Ditch that ginger and both of you come and have a pint!"

"Can we go somewhere?" Amara said, grabbing Ron's t-shirt, afraid he'd go punch the man.

"This'll do," said Hermione, pointing to a small, shabby all-night café. It was empty, for good reason. It looked disgusting.

Harry slipped into a booth first and Ron sat next to him. Amara and Hermione were resigned to the seats with their backs against the entrance. Amara hated it, she felt prickly and wanted to turn around every second to check what was going on.

"You know, we're not far from the Leaky Cauldron here, it's only in Charing Cross —"

"Ron, we can't!" said Hermione at once.

"Not to stay there, but to find out what's going on!"

"We know what's going on! Voldemort's taken over the Ministry, what else do we need to know?"

"Okay, okay, it was just an idea!"

They relapsed into a prickly silence. A gum-chewing waitress shuffled over after a while and Hermione ordered them three cappuccinos. As she did, two workmen entered the café too and sat in the next booth. Amara did not like this.

"I say we find a quiet place to Disapparate and head for the countryside. Once we're there, we could send a message to the Order."

"Can you do it then?" Amara asked. "The patronus thing?"

"I've been practicing and I think so," said Hermione.

"Well, as long as it doesn't get them into trouble, though they might've been arrested already. God, that's revolting," Ron added after one sip of the foamy, greyish coffee.

"Let's get going, then, I don't want to drink this muck," said Ron. "Hermione, Amara, have you got Muggle money to pay for this?"

"Yes, I took out all my Building Society savings before I came to the Burrow. I'll bet all the change is at the bottom," sighed Hermione, reaching for her beaded bag.

Ron suddenly dived over the table and pushed Hermione and Amara to the floor. A jet of light flew across their table and shattered the tiled wall where Ron had been. On the cold floor, Amara could only hear Harry's yells.

Jumping to her feet, she saw on Death Eater kneel over whilst the other had shot coils on Ron. The waitress screamed and ran for the door; Harry shot another spell which missed and hit the waitress instead. Amara got out her wand and shot a stunning spell at the Death Eater, too. It also missed.

" _Expulso!"_ bellowed the Death Eater, and the table behind which Amara presumed Harry was standing blew up: Amara saw him at the end of a wall, the Cloak slipping off.

" _Stupefy!"_ yelled Amara at the same time Hermione screamed, from out of sight: " _Petrificus Totalus!"_

Both hit their mark and the Death Eater went rigid and unconscious all the same time; he flew off his feel and landed, straight as a board, near the window.

Amara ran over to Ron to get the ropes off.

" _Diffindo!"_ she shouted, adrenaline still coursing through her. The ropes fell away and Ron got to his feet, pushing them off him.

"I should've recognized him, he was there the night Dumbledore died," he said. He turned over the darker Death Eater with his foot; his eyes were closed from Amara's Stunner and rigid from Hermione's Body-Bind. Amara was suddenly reminded of Fred and what he had said at the Wedding.

"That's Dolohov," said Ron. "I recognize him from the old wanted posters. I think the big one's Thorfinn Rowle."

"Never mind what they're called!" said Hermione a little hysterically. "How did they find us? What are we going to do?"

"One of you lock the door," Harry said quickly, "and Ron, turn out the lights."

Hermione waved her wand at the door as Ron used the Deluminator to plunge the café into darkness. There was silence now, only their preaching punctuated the darkness. In the distance were the catcalling men yelling at another girl.

"What are we going to do with them?" Ron whispered to Harry through the dark; then, even more quietly, "Kill them? They'd kill us. They had a good go just now."

Hermione shuddered and took a step backward.

"We can't kill them!" hissed Amara. "I don't –"

Harry shook his head.

"We just need to wipe their memories," said Harry. "It's better like that, it'll throw them off the scent. If we killed them it'd be obvious we were here."

"You're the boss," said Ron, sounding profoundly relieved. "But I've never done a Memory Charm."

"Me either," said Amara.

"Nor have I," said Hermione, "but I know the theory."

She took a deep, calming breath, then pointed her wand at Dolohov's forehead and said, " _Obliviate_."

At once, Dolohov's eyes became unfocused and dreamy.

"Brilliant!" said Harry, clapping her on the back. "Amara, do you think you can do it too? If you two take care of the other one and the waitress while Ron and I clear up."

"Clear up?" said Ron, looking around at the partly destroyed café. "Why?"

"Don't you think they might wonder what's happened if they wake up and find themselves in a place that looks like it's just been bombed?"

"Oh right, yeah . . ."

Ron struggled for a moment before managing to extract his wand from his pocket.

"It's no wonder I can't get it out, you two, you packed my old jeans, they're tight."

"We're so sorry," hissed Amara as she and Hermione dragged the waitress out of sight of the windows.

Hermione muttered where Ron could stick his wand instead. Amara tried not to laugh in such a bad situation.

" _Obliviate_ ," whispered Amara, pointing her wand at the waitress. Her eyes turned similar to the other Death Eater; Amara felt odd from the spell.

Once the café was restored to its previous condition, they heaved the Death Eaters back into their booth and propped them up facing each other.

"But how did they find us?" Hermione asked, looking from one man to the other. "How did they know where we were?"

She turned to Harry.

"You — you don't think you've still got your Trace on you, do you, Harry?"

"He can't have," said Ron. "The Trace breaks at seventeen, that's Wizarding law, you can't put it on an adult."

"As far as you know," said Hermione. "What if the Death Eaters have found a way to put it on a seventeen-year-old?"

"But Harry hasn't been near a Death Eater in the last twenty-four hours. Who's supposed to have put a Trace back on him?"

Hermione did not reply and Amara had no idea what to think. How _did_ they find them? They could have gone anywhere from the Wedding, yet they managed to find them in Tottenham Court Road?

"If I can't use magic, and you can't use magic near me, without us giving away our position —" Harry began.

"We're not splitting up!" said Hermione firmly.

"Don't be ridiculous, we can't split ways now! Where would we go?" Amara said.

"We need a safe place to hide," said Ron. "Give us time to think things through."

"Grimmauld Place," said Harry.

They all gaped at him.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Snape can get in there!"

"Ron's dad said they've put up jinxes against him — and even if they haven't worked," he pressed on as Hermione began to argue, "so what? I swear, I'd like nothing better than to meet Snape!"

"But —"

"Hermione, where else is there? It's the best chance we've got. Snape's only one Death Eater. If I've still got the Trace on me, we'll have whole crowds of them on us wherever else we go."

Amara knew that Hermione wanted to argue, so she walked quickly to the door and unlocked it whilst Ron restored the café's light.

Then, on Harry's count of three, they reversed the spells upon their three victims, and before the waitress or either of the Death Eaters could do more than stir sleepily, Amara grabbed Harry's arm and Hermione grabbed Ron's. The two pairs turned on the spot and vanished from the café.

They were now standing in the middle of a familiar small and shabby square.

Amara had not been there for two years, yet she remembered it well. The tall houses either side seemed unaware of anything strange. Number twelve was already in sight, as they were all Secret-Keepers now.

Amara kept her wand tightly in her hand as they hurried towards the steps. They kept checking every few feet in case anymore Death Eaters came out of the shadows.

Harry tapped the front door once with his wand. They heard a series of metallic clicks and the clatter of a chain, then the door swung open with a creak and they hurried over the threshold.

Harry closed the door and the gas lamps sprang into light. They emitted a glow that made the whole house seem creepier than before; every shadow made Amara twitch.

The only thing that was out of place was the troll's leg umbrella stand, which was lying on its side as if Tonks had just knocked it over again.

"I think somebody's been in here," Hermione whispered, pointing toward it.

"That could've happened as the Order left," Ron murmured back.

"So where are these jinxes they put up against Snape?" Harry asked.

"Maybe they're only activated if he shows up?" suggested Ron.

But they didn't move. Amara stood next to Ron and tried to refrain from grabbing his arm due to her fright.

"Well, we can't stay here forever," said Harry, and he took a step forward.

" _Severus Snape?"_

Mad-Eye Moody's voice whispered out of the darkness, making all four of them jump back in fright.

"We're not Snape!" croaked Harry.

Amara tried not to choke as cold air rushed over them and she felt her tongue curling back on its own accord. She couldn't speak. Shaking, Amara took Ron's arm and hugged it tightly. The boy himself was making retching noises as their tongues unfurled.

"That m-must have b-been the T-Tongue-Tying Curse Mad-Eye set up for Snape!" stammered Hermione.

Harry took another step forward. Something shifted in the shadows at the end of the hall, and before any of them could say another word, a figure had risen up out of the carpet, tall, dust-coloured, and terrible.

Amara and Hermione screamed; they both staggered back toward the door as Mrs Black began to scream too. Amara slumped to the floor as the grey figure shot towards them, faster and faster, with sunken, fleshless skin and empty eye sockets.

"No!" Harry shouted, raising his wand. "No! It wasn't us! We didn't kill you —"

On the word _kill_ , the figure exploded in a great cloud of dust.

Amara looked sideways to see Hermione covering her head with her arms, crouching like Amara by the door. Ron was shaking as he came over, pulling Amara to her feet and giving her a hug.

"It's all r-right. . . . It's g-gone. . . ." he said as he helped Hermione up too.

 _"_ _Mudbloods, filth, stains of dishonour, taint of shame on the house of my fathers —"_

"SHUT UP!" Harry bellowed, directing his wand at her, and with a bang and a burst of red sparks, the curtains swung shut again, silencing her.

"That . . . that was . . ." Hermione whimpered. Amara hugged her tightly, feeling very cold and shivery.

"Yeah," said Harry, "but it wasn't really him, was it? Just something to scare Snape."

Amara was still shaking slightly, as was Ron, who was closest to her. They started down the hallway, all of them going slowly and cautiously, anxiously anticipating something else which could be lurking in the shadows.

"Before we go any farther, I think we'd better check," whispered Hermione, and she raised her wand and said, " _Homenum revelio."_

Nothing happened.

"Er – nothing happened," said Amara blankly.

"What was it supposed to do?" asked Ron.

"It did what I meant it to do!" said Hermione rather crossly. "That was a spell to reveal human presence, and there's nobody here except us!"

"And old Dusty," said Ron, glancing at the patch of carpet from which the corpse-figure had risen.

"Don't say _that_ ," Amara groaned, not wanting to look at the spot. Hermione seemed frightened of this, too.

"Let's go up," she said and led the way up the stairs, which creaked ominously, and into the drawing room on the first floor.

Hermione waved her wand to ignite the old gas lamps, then, shivering slightly in the drafty room, she perched on the sofa, her arms wrapped tightly around her. Ron crossed to the window and moved the heavy velvet curtain aside an inch. Amara distinctly remembered cleaning the room two years before. She and Ron had had a competition of who-could-spray-the-most-doxies. She missed their daily competitions.

"Can't see anyone out there," Ron reported, peering down at the square. "And you'd think, if Harry still had a Trace on him, they'd have followed us here. I know they can't get in the house, but — what's up, Harry?"

They all whipped around as Harry gave a cry of pain.

"What did you see?" Ron asked, advancing on Harry. "Did you see him at my place?"

"No, I just felt anger — he's really angry —"

"But that could be at the Burrow," said Ron loudly. "What else? Didn't you see anything? Was he cursing someone?"

"No, I just felt anger — I couldn't tell —"

"Your scar, again? But what's going on? I thought that connection had closed!" Hermione said, looking frightened again.

"It did, for a while," muttered Harry. "I — I think it's started opening again whenever he loses control, that's how it used to —"

"But then you've got to close your mind!" said Hermione shrilly. "Harry, Dumbledore didn't want you to use that connection, he wanted you to shut it down, that's why you were supposed to use Occlumency! Otherwise Voldemort can plant false images in your mind, remember —"

"Hermione, leave him alone," Amara said sharply, watching Harry. He seemed angry, frustrated; his scar was obviously paining him. Amara didn't think closing it was as easy as Hermione thought it was. It wasn't as though Harry _enjoyed_ it – especially after what happened to Sirius.

As Harry turned away to examine the old tapestry, Amara turned to face Ron. He seemed anxious about what had happened in the Burrow now that they'd found a place to stay.

Hermione shrieked as something silver – so similar to the one they'd seen just a few hours before – came through the window and onto the floor. It wasn't a lynx this time, it was a weasel.

 _"_ _Family safe, do not reply, we are being watched."_ It spoke with Mr Weasley's voice.

The Patronus dissolved into nothingness. Amara released a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and let out a choked sort of sob. Ron let out a noise between a whimper and a groan and dropped onto the sofa, Amara and Hermione both joined him. Amara gave him a tight hug, which he willingly returned.

"It's all OK!" she said, rather tearfully. She grabbed Hermione and pulled her into the hug too.

"Harry," Ron's voice came from over Amara's shoulder. "I —"

"It's not a problem," said Harry. "It's your family, 'course you're worried. I'd feel the same way. I _do_ feel the same way. And, Amara and Hermione, I understand too."

"I don't want to be on my own," said Hermione quietly. "Could we use the sleeping bags I've brought and camp in here tonight?"

"Definitely," said Amara.

"Sure," said Ron.

"Bathroom," Harry muttered, and he left the room rather quickly.

Amara focused her attention on the beaded bag, which Hermione was rummaging through. She brought out a toothbrush and four sleeping bags.

"Someone could use the cushions," said Ron. "Who wants them?"

"I don't mind," said Amara, getting the sleeping bags out. "Hermione?"

"We could share them, if you want," said Hermione. "I'm going to give Harry his toothbrush."

She left, leaving Ron and Amara to sort out the sleeping bags and arrange the cushions. Amara placed a cushioning charm on the floor where Ron and Harry were going to sleep, feeling bad they didn't have cushions.

Harry and Hermione came back soon after, the former looking pale and sickly. Amara was worried; it seemed Harry had had another fight of pain, but hadn't wanted them to see.

Climbing fully dressed into the sleeping bag, Amara snuggled down and attempted to get some sleep. This was no easy feat; she was wide awake from the events and worried about everyone. Though Mr Weasley had said the family was safe – meaning Fred, Ginny and the others were fine – did he mean Jesse, Tally and Noah too? She supposed he did, considering they were Amara's family _and_ Ron was going out with Tally.

The fact that they'd all been separated from each other seemed so odd. Amara felt slightly hollow. They were really doing it now. Searching for Horcruxes.

It took at least a few hours, but Amara finally dropped off into an uneasy sleep, punctuated with screams and spells and everything in between.


	12. Regulus Arcturus Black

**_A/N Hi, everybody! Here's chapter twelve ... sorry for the lack of consistency between updates, I would say that I'll try and update more regularly, but I doubt I'd be able to keep it up. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter, and enjoy this one! xx_**

 ** _Chapter Twelve_**

 ** _Regulus Arcturus Black_**

Amara jerked awake the next morning rather sharply. For a moment, she wondered why. She must have slept slightly better than she thought; the sun was nearly up and a weak light was managing to filter through the curtains.

The reason for her abrupt return to reality was made apparent when Ron whacked her on the arm.

" _Ouch,"_ she said crossly, opening her eyes blearily and trying to whack him back. She missed. "What was that for?"

"Harry's gone missing," said Ron, who had snorted over Amara's lame attempt of hitting him back.

"How could he be _missing,"_ said Amara, struggling out of her sleeping bag and wondering why she hadn't changed out of her dress. "He can't have left the house."

Ron shrugged and Amara noticed that Hermione was looking very worried indeed.

"Let's split up and find him," she said.

Amara nearly groaned but supressed it.

Ron went downstairs whilst Amara and Hermione searched the upper floors. Amara started doing the rooms they'd all stayed two years before whilst Hermione went further up.

After checking Harry and Ron's room and the room she'd shared with Tally, Amara noticed that all of them looked disturbed. It was rather eerie.

In the room Fred and George's shared, Amara paused. She hadn't missed Fred so much in her life.

Her thoughts were disturbed by Hermione yelling down the stairs that she'd found Harry.

"Good! Tell him from me that he's a git!" Ron's voice shouted back from below her. Amara snorted and left the room. She got back into the drawing room and changed quickly into jeans and a t-shirt before she got too irritated with her dress.

Ron entered as she slipped on her trainers.

"No food," he said grumpily, seemingly have looked for food and Harry at the same time.

"Damn," said Amara. "My mum gave me a few tins of stuff – I don't want to use too many of them, though, we won't know what we'll be doing in a month."

Ron shrugged. "Let's go find Harry and Hermione." He said, but as they left the drawing room, a shriek echoed down the stairs.

"Ron! AMARA! Get up here, quick!"

Amara and Ron glanced at each other, panicking. They each whipped out their wands and sprinted up the stairs.

They went further up than Amara had ever been before. she knew Sirius stayed up here, and finally, when they reached the final landing, she saw a door with _Sirius_ on it.

Panting, they saw Harry and Hermione standing beside the only other door.

"What's wrong?" she gasped.

"If it's massive spiders again I want breakfast before I —"

Hermione was pointing at the second door. On it was a hand-painted sign, rather prissy in Amara's opinion.

 ** _Do Not Enter  
Without the Express Permission  
Of Regulus Arcturus Black_**

Amara stared at it. Regulus Arcturus Black … Regulus … Sirius's brother.

"R.A.B!" Amara gasped at the same time Ron got it too.

"The locket — you don't reckon — ?"

"Let's find out," said Harry. He pushed the door: It was locked.

Hermione pointed her wand at the handle and said, " _Alohomora_." There was a click, and the door swung open.

As one, they moved over the threshold and into the room. Amara felt intrusive, the sign had, of course, said to not enter.

The Slytherin colours of emerald and silver were everywhere in the room, which was rather grandiose. It looked like Tessie's room, except Slytherin instead of Gryffindor. And, Amara supposed, a toned-down version of her own.

There was a collection of yellow newspaper cuttings, all stuck together to make a ragged collage. Hermione immediately crossed the room to examine them.

"They're all about Voldemort," she said. "Regulus seems to have been a fan for a few years before he joined the Death Eaters. . . ."

She sat down on the bed with a puff of dust.

Ron walked over to the wardrobe; Harry was looking at a photograph, so Amara walked over to the bookshelf and started to shift through it.

"He played Seeker," said Harry.

Amara turned. "What?" she asked. "At Hogwarts?"

"He's sitting in the middle of the front row, that's where the

Seeker sits," said Harry. Amara knew that from last year.

She turned back to the shelf and shifted through the crooked books. Some had been so haphazardly that Amara thought, again, that someone had been there before them.

"There's an easier way," said Hermione. She raised her wand. " _Accio Locket!"_

Nothing happened. Ron, who had been searching the folds of the faded curtains, looked disappointed.

"Is that it, then? It's not here?"

"Oh, it could still be here, but under counter-enchantments," said Hermione. "Charms to prevent it being summoned magically, you know."

"Like Voldemort put on the stone basin in the cave," said Harry.

"How are we supposed to find it then?" asked Ron.

"We search manually," said Hermione.

"We should've thought of that," said Amara, exchanging glances with Ron, who rolled his eyes. Amara was getting hungry and irritated from lack of sleep.

After an hour of searching, however, they found nothing.

"It could be somewhere else in the house, though," said Hermione in a rallying tone as they walked back downstairs: As Amara, Harry and Ron had become more discouraged, she seemed to have become more determined. "Whether he'd managed to destroy it or not, he'd want to keep it hidden from Voldemort, wouldn't he? Remember all those awful things we had to get rid of when we were here last time? That clock that shot bolts at everyone and those old robes that tried to strangle Ron; Regulus might have put them there to protect the locket's hiding place, even though we didn't realize it at . . . at . . ."

Amara, Harry and Ron looked at her. She was standing with one foot in midair, completely in a daze.

". . . at the time," she finished in a whisper.

"Something wrong?" asked Ron.

"There was a locket."

"What?" said Amara, Harry and Ron together.

"In the cabinet in the drawing room. Nobody could open it. And we . . . we . . ."

They had thrown it away, Amara realised with a thud. Thrown it clean away without a backwards thought because no one could open it.

"Kreacher nicked loads of things back from us," said Harry. "He had a whole stash of stuff in his cupboard in the kitchen. C'mon."

He ran down the stairs taking two steps at a time, Amara followed suit with Ron and Hermione. They ran so hard down the stairs that they woke Mrs Black in the hall.

"Filth! Mudbloods! Scum!" she screamed after them as they dashed down into the basement kitchen and slammed the door behind them.

Harry ran the length of the room, skidded to a halt at the door of Kreacher's cupboard, and wrenched it open.

Amara skidded after him and looked into the weird little nest the elf had made. Apart from blankets and the book _Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy_ it was empty. Harry snatched up the blankets and shook them; a mouse fell out and rolled on the floor.

Ron groaned as he threw himself into a kitchen chair; Hermione closed her eyes. Amara huffed and sat in a chair next to Ron, slumping on the table with her arms crossed.

"It's not over yet," said Harry, and he raised his voice and called, " _Kreacher!"_

There was a loud _crack_ and Kreacher the house-elf appeared out of nowhere. Amara did not care for Kreacher. Not since he'd so willingly allowed Sirius to be killed.

"Master," croaked Kreacher and he bowed low, muttering to his knees, "back in my Mistress's old house with the blood-traitor Weasley and the Mudbloods —"

"I forbid you to call anyone 'blood traitor' or 'Mudblood,' " growled Harry.

"I've got a question for you," Harry carried on, "and I order you to answer it truthfully. Understand?"

"Yes, Master," said Kreacher, bowing again.

"Two years ago," said Harry, "there was a big gold locket in the drawing room upstairs. We threw it out. Did you steal it back?"

There was a moment's silence, during which Kreacher straightened up to look Harry full in the face. Then he said, "Yes."

"Where is it now?" asked Harry jubilantly. Amara's heart skipped an excited beat. Amara exchanged excited glances with Hermione and Ron.

Kreacher closed his eyes as though he could not bear to see their reactions to his next word.

"Gone."

"Gone?" echoed Harry, his face falling. Amara supressed a groan. "What do you mean, it's gone?"

The elf shivered. He swayed.

"Kreacher," said Harry fiercely, "I order you —"

"Mundungus Fletcher," croaked Kreacher, his eyes still tight shut. "Mundungus Fletcher stole it all: Miss Bella's and Miss Cissy's pictures, my Mistress's gloves, the Order of Merlin, First Class, the goblets with the family crest, and — and —"

Kreacher was gulping for air: His hollow chest was rising and falling rapidly, then his eyes flew open and he uttered a bloodcurdling scream.

 _"—_ _and the locket, Master Regulus's locket, Kreacher did wrong, Kreacher failed in his orders!"_

Kreacher lunged for the poker and Amara jumped in horror. Harry flung himself on the elf as Hermione screamed.

"Kreacher, I order you to stay still!" Harry bellowed.

The elf froze and Harry released him.

"Harry, let him up!" Hermione whispered.

"So he can beat himself up with the poker?" snorted Harry, kneeling beside the elf. "I don't think so. Right, Kreacher, I want the truth: How do you know Mundungus Fletcher stole the locket?"

"Kreacher saw him!" gasped the elf as tears poured over his snout. "Kreacher saw him coming out of Kreacher's cupboard with his hands full of Kreacher's treasures. Kreacher told the sneak thief to stop, but Mundungus Fletcher laughed and r-ran. . . ."

"You called the locket 'Master Regulus's,' " said Harry. "Why? Where did it come from? What did Regulus have to do with it? Kreacher, sit up and tell me everything you know about that locket, and everything Regulus had to do with it!"

Kreacher curled up into a ball and rocked back and forth, still bawling.

"Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways. But Master Regulus had proper pride; he knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggle-borns . . . and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve . . .

"And one day, a year after he had joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said . . . he said . . .

The old elf rocked faster than ever.

". . . he said that the Dark Lord required an elf."

"Voldemort needed an elf ?" Harry repeated, looking around at Amara, Ron and Hermione, who looked just as puzzled as he did.

"Oh yes," moaned Kreacher. "And Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honour, said Master Regulus, an honour for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do . . . and then to c-come home."

Kreacher rocked still faster, his breath coming in sobs.

"So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave there was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake . . ."

". . . There was a boat . . . There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it. . . ."

The elf quaked from head to foot.

"Kreacher drank, and as he drank, he saw terrible things. . . . Kreacher's insides burned. . . . Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed. . . . He made Kreacher drink all the potion. . . . He dropped a locket into the empty basin. . . . He filled it with more potion.

"And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island. . . ."

Amara couldn't help feel sorry for Kreacher as he bawled on the floor.

"Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake . . . and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface. . . ."

"How did you get away?" Harry whispered.

Kreacher raised his ugly head and looked at Harry.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back," he said.

"I know — but how did you escape the Inferi?"

Kreacher did not seem to understand.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back," he repeated.

"I know, but —"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it, Harry?" said Ron from next to Amara. She looked at him. "He Disapparated!"

"But . . . you couldn't Apparate in and out of that cave," said Harry, "otherwise Dumbledore —"

"Elf magic isn't like wizard's magic, is it?" said Ron. "I mean, they can Apparate and Disapparate in and out of Hogwarts when we can't."

"Of course, Voldemort would have considered the ways of house-elves far beneath his notice, just like all the purebloods who treat them like animals," said Hermione icily. "It would never have occurred to him that they might have magic that he didn't."

"The house-elf's highest law is his Master's bidding," intoned Kreacher. "Kreacher was told to come home, so Kreacher came home. . . ."

"Well, then, you did what you were told, didn't you?" said Hermione kindly. "You didn't disobey orders at all!"

Kreacher shook his head, rocking as fast as ever.

"So what happened when you got back?" Harry asked. "What did Regulus say when you told him what had happened?"

"Master Regulus was very worried, very worried," croaked Kreacher. "Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then . . . it was a little while later . . . Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell . . . and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord. . . ."

"And he made you drink the potion?" said Harry, disgusted. He seemed to be visualising what Kreacher was explaining. Amara, who hadn't been to the cave, could not.

But Kreacher shook his head and wept. Hermione's hands leapt to her mouth: She seemed to have understood something.

"M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had," said Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snoutlike nose. "And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets. . . ."

Kreacher's sobs came in great rasps now.

"And he ordered — Kreacher to leave — without him. And he told Kreacher — to go home — and never to tell my Mistress — what he had done — but to destroy — the first locket. And he drank — all the potion — and Kreacher swapped the lockets — and watched . . . as Master Regulus . . . was dragged beneath the water . . . and . . ."

"Oh, Kreacher!" wailed Hermione, who was crying. She dropped to her knees beside the elf and tried to hug him. At once he was on his feet, cringing away from her, quite obviously repulsed.

"One of the Mudbloods touched Kreacher, he will not allow it, what would his Mistress say?"

"I told you not to call them 'Mudblood'!" snarled Harry, but the elf was already punishing himself: He fell to the ground and banged his forehead on the floor.

"Stop him — stop him!" Hermione cried. "Oh, don't you see now how sick it is, the way they've got to obey?"

"Kreacher — stop, stop!" shouted Harry.

The elf lay on the floor, panting and shivering. Amara was quite repulsed.

"So you brought the locket home," Harry pressed. "And you tried to destroy it?"

"Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," moaned the elf. "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work. . . . So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open. . . . Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his Mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared, and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave. . . ."

Kreacher began to sob so hard that there were no more coherent words. Amara bit her lip, staring at the elf sadly.

"I don't understand you, Kreacher," Harry said finally. "Voldemort tried to kill you, Regulus died to bring Voldemort down, but you were still happy to betray Sirius to Voldemort? You were happy to go to Narcissa and Bellatrix, and pass information to Voldemort through them. . . ."

"Harry, Kreacher doesn't think like that," said Hermione, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. "He's a slave; house-elves are used to bad, even brutal treatment; what Voldemort did to Kreacher wasn't that far out of the common way. What do wizard wars mean to an elf like Kreacher? He's loyal to people who are kind to him, and Mrs Black must have been, and Regulus certainly was, so he served them willingly and parroted their beliefs. I know what you're going to say," she went on as Harry began to protest, "that Regulus changed his mind . . . but he doesn't seem to have explained that to Kreacher, does he? And I think I know why. Kreacher and Regulus's family were all safer if they kept to the old pure-blood line. Regulus was trying to protect them all."

"Sirius —"

"Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it's no good looking like that, you know it's true. Kreacher had been alone for a long time when Sirius came to live here, and he was probably starving for a bit of affection. I'm sure 'Miss Cissy' and 'Miss Bella' were perfectly lovely to Kreacher when he turned up, so he did them a favour and told them everything they wanted to know. I've said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did . . . and so did Sirius."

Harry did not reply for quite a while.

"Kreacher," said Harry after staring at him, "when you feel up to it, er . . . please sit up."

It was several minutes before Kreacher hiccuped himself into silence. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position again, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes like a small child.

"Kreacher, I am going to ask you to do something," said Harry.

He glanced at Hermione for apparent assistance. She smiled encouragingly.

"Kreacher, I want you, please, to go and find Mundungus Fletcher. We need to find out where the locket — where Master Regulus's locket is. It's really important. We want to finish the work Master Regulus started, we want to — er — ensure that he didn't die in vain."

Kreacher dropped his fists and looked up at Harry.

"Find Mundungus Fletcher?" he croaked.

"And bring him here, to Grimmauld Place," said Harry. "Do you think you could do that for us?"

As Kreacher nodded and got to his feet, Harry retrieved the fake locket from inside his clothes.

"Kreacher, I'd, er, like you to have this," he said, pressing the locket into the elf's hand. "This belonged to Regulus and I'm sure he'd want you to have it as a token of gratitude for what you —"

"Overkill, mate," said Ron as the elf took one look at the locket, let out a howl of shock and misery, and threw himself back onto the ground.

It took half an hour to calm the elf down and it was only after they had assured him that the locket was their main priority whilst he was gone (as he had put it into his cupboard) that he finally seemed able to leave.

Kreacher then made two low bows to Harry and Ron, and even gave two funny little spasms in Hermione and Amara's directions, which looked as though it was trying to be a salute. With that, he was gone with a loud _crack._

"Well," said Amara, staring at where he'd disappeared. "That was exhausting."


	13. Lupin

_**A/N EDIT: Thank you to the reviewers who pointed out to me that the whole chapter was gobbledegook, I have no idea what happened! Here is a (hopefully) better version! Sorry xx**_

 ** _A/N Sorry, nine months later ... thanks to every new fave/follow/review! It inspires (and reminds) me to post! xx_**

 _ **Chapter Thirteen**_

 _ **Lupin**_

Kreacher did not return for a couple of days. This made all of them restless and rather snappish, for food was rather scarce.

There wasn't much to do in the house, which had gone back to its dirtier state after the absence of people for two years. All the hard work they'd done … it was all wasted. Cobwebs and grime covered the place again; they spent most of the time in the drawing room. Though, Amara kept being drawn to the room which Fred and George stayed in two years before. There was just a few hints that they'd been there: a few wrappers, a few ingredients and a Filibuster Firework. She found a lone sock underneath one of the beds.

She had started whiling away the hours lying on Fred's old bed, examining Dumbledore's pocket watch, trying to figure out how he wanted her to work it or watching the little picture of her and Fred in her locket. It was easier to examine because Ron was spending his time in the drawing room turning off the lights with the Deluminator. This was not useful when one wanted to see, and Amara was normally joined after a while by Hermione, who wanted to read The Tales of Beedle the Bard without the lights flickering.

They hadn't heard anything from the outside world since the Patronus of Mr Weasley's. No word of Tally, which was panicking Ron, no word of Jesse, which was worrying Hermione, and no word from anyone else, like Noah or Fred or George or Adrien.

More worryingly, however, there were two cloaked men in the square directly opposite number twelve. They remained there even at night time, watching the invisible house.

"Death Eaters, for sure," said Ron, as they watched from the drawing room windows. "Reckon they know we're in here?"

"I don't think so," said Hermione, though she looked frightened, "or they'd have sent Snape in after us, wouldn't they?"

"D'you reckon he's been in here and had his tongue tied by Moody's curse?" asked Ron.

"Yes," said Hermione, "otherwise he'd have been able to tell that lot how to get in, wouldn't he? But they're probably watching to see whether we turn up. They know that Harry owns the house, after all."

"How?" said Amara blankly.

"Wizarding wills are examined by the Ministry, remember? They'll know Sirius left Harry the place."

"That's annoying," Amara said, peering down at the cloaked figures. "I wonder if they really think we're here or somewhere else."

"They've probably got people everywhere," said Hermione, still looking worried.

"Well we'll just have to be extra careful as to not let them know we are here."

-OOOOO-

Amara heard the tale-tale noises of Hermione and Ron's raised voices on the third evening while in the bedroom, but was surprised when it wasn't Hermione who entered the room, but Harry.

"They're driving me crazy," said Harry in irritation. He slumped on George's bed.

"Tell me about it," said Amara. She looked at Dumbledore's pocket watch.

"Still struggling with that thing?"

"Yep," said Amara. "No luck yet. Wish he'd left instructions."

"So do I," said Harry bitterly and Amara knew he wasn't talking about the pocket watch.

There was an odd sort of noise from downstairs.

Amara and Harry bolted upright.

"Was that the front door?" whispered Amara.

Amara and Harry ran to the door. As they sprinted past the drawing room, they heard Ron and Hermione still bickering. They obviously hadn't heard anything.

Clattering down the stairs, Amara and Harry just missed the dust figure being exploded by an unknown cloaked man. Reaching the hall, Amara and Harry pulled out their wands.

"Don't move!" Harry said loudly. Too loudly; Mrs Black's curtains flew open and the familiar screams echoed round the house. This seemed to rouse Ron and Hermione as they clattered down the stairs seconds later.

"Mudbloods and filth dishonoring my house —"

Amara flung a spell at Mrs Black to make her shut up so she could hear the intruder.

"Hold your fire, it's me, Remus!"

"Oh, thank goodness," said Hermione weakly, lowering her wand. Ron did, too. But Amara, who saw Harry's had not wavered, remained firm.

"Show yourself!" Harry called back.

The man shifted forwards, arms up to show is empty palms. As he came into the lamplight, it exposed his scarred face.

"I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, married to Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag."

"Oh, all right," said Harry, lowering his wand. Amara followed suit quickly, her heart still beating at the sight of her old Professor, worried that he had bad news but extremely excited to see someone other than Harry, Ron, Hermione and the two creepy people outside. "but I had to check, didn't I?"

"Speaking as your ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, I quite agree that you had to check. Ron, Hermione, you shouldn't be quite so quick to lower your defences."

They all ran closer towards Remus Lupin, who was dressed in a thick black travelling cloak and looking exhausted.

"No sign of Severus, then?" he asked.

"No," said Harry. "What's going on? Is everyone okay?"

"Yes," said Lupin, "but we're all being watched. There are a couple of Death Eaters in the square outside —"

"We know —"

"I had to Apparate very precisely onto the top step outside the front door to be sure that they would not see me. They can't know you're in here or I'm sure they'd have more people out there; they're staking out everywhere that's got any connection with you, Harry. Let's go downstairs, there's a lot to tell you, and I want to know what happened after you left the Burrow."

They descended into the kitchen, where Hermione pointed her wand at the grate. A fire sprang up instantly. Lupin pulled a few butterbeers from beneath his travelling cloak and they sat down.

"I'd have been here three days ago but I needed to shake off the Death Eater tailing me," said Lupin. "So, you came straight here after the wedding?"

"No," replied Harry, "only after we ran into a couple of Death Eaters in a café on Tottenham Court Road."

Lupin slopped most of his butterbeer down his front.

"What?"

They explained what had happened; when they had finished, Lupin looked aghast.

"But how did they find you so quickly? It's impossible to track anyone who Apparates, unless you grab hold of them as they disappear!"

"And it doesn't seem likely they were just strolling down Tottenham Court Road at the time, does it?" said Harry.

"We wondered," said Hermione tentatively, "whether Harry could still have the Trace on him?"

"Impossible," said Lupin. Amara breathed a sigh of relief. At least now they didn't have to worry about doing magic. "Apart from anything else, they'd know for sure Harry was here if he still had the Trace on him, wouldn't they? But I can't see how they could have tracked you to Tottenham Court Road, that's worrying, really worrying."

"Tell us what happened after we left, we haven't heard a thing since Ron's dad told us the family were safe."

"Well, Kingsley saved us," said Lupin. "Thanks to his warning most of the wedding guests were able to Disapparate before they arrived."

"What about my cousins?" Amara asked quickly. Ron and Hermione also looked up eagerly.

"Tally managed to get back to France yesterday – after much persuasion. Jesse and Noah are fine, as is Adrien. They Apparated away," said Lupin, smiling slightly at the relieved looks he got. He glanced at Amara. "Fred's fine, too."

Amara smiled weakly and nodded.

"Were they Death Eaters or Ministry people?" Hermione asked. "Those who appeared at the wedding?"

"A mixture; but to all intents and purposes they're the same thing now," said Lupin. "There were about a dozen of them, but they didn't know you were there, Harry. Arthur heard a rumour that they tried to torture your whereabouts out of Scrimgeour before they killed him; if it's true, he didn't give you away."

Amara exchanged surprised looks with Harry, Ron and Hermione but was nonetheless grateful for Scrimgeour's silence. In the meeting where Amara had met him, she hadn't liked him much. But the fact he'd not given Harry away … that was more than they could have asked for.

"The Death Eaters searched the Burrow from top to bottom," Lupin went on. "They found the ghoul, but didn't want to get too close — and then they interrogated those of us who remained for hours. They were trying to get information on you, Harry, but of course nobody apart from the Order knew that you had been there.

"At the same time that they were smashing up the wedding, more Death Eaters were forcing their way into every Order-connected house in the country. No deaths," he added quickly, forestalling the question, "but they were rough. They burned down Dedalus Diggle's house, but as you know he wasn't there, and they used the Cruciatus Curse on Tonks's family. Again, trying to find out where you went after you visited them. They're all right — shaken, obviously, but otherwise okay."

"The Death Eaters got through all those protective charms?" Harry asked.

"What you've got to realise, Harry, is that the Death Eaters have got the full might of the Ministry on their side now," said Lupin.

"They've got the power to perform brutal spells without fear of identification or arrest. They managed to penetrate every defensive spell we'd cast against them, and once inside, they were completely open about why they'd come."

"And are they bothering to give an excuse for torturing Harry's whereabouts out of people?" asked Hermione, an edge to her voice.

"Well," said Lupin. He hesitated, then pulled out a folded copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Here," he said, pushing it across the table to Harry, "you'll know sooner or later anyway. That's their pretext for going after you." Harry smoothed out the paper, Amara leant in to read it. A huge photograph of Harry's own face filled the front page.

 _ **WANTED FOR QUESTIONING ABOUT**_

 _ **THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE**_

Amara spluttered; Ron and Hermione gave roars of outrage, but Harry said nothing.

"They're pinning it on Harry?" she said angrily. "Harry's the least likely person to – to –"

"I know," said Lupin.

"So Death Eaters have taken over the Daily Prophet too?" asked Hermione furiously.

Lupin nodded.

"But surely people realise what's going on?"

"The coup has been smooth and virtually silent," said Lupin. "The official version of Scrimgeour's murder is that he resigned; he has been replaced by Pius Thicknesse, who is under the Imperius Curse."

"Why didn't Voldemort declare himself Minister of Magic?" asked Ron.

Lupin laughed. "He doesn't need to, Ron. Effectively he is the Minister, but why should he sit behind a desk at the Ministry? His puppet, Thicknesse, is taking care of everyday business, leaving Voldemort free to extend his power beyond the Ministry.

"Naturally many people have deduced what has happened: There has been such a dramatic change in Ministry policy in the last few days, and many are whispering that Voldemort must be behind it. However, that is the point: They whisper. They daren't confide in each other, not knowing whom to trust; they are scared to speak out, in case their suspicions are true and their families are targeted. Yes, Voldemort is playing a very clever game. Declaring himself might have provoked open rebellion: Remaining masked has created confusion, uncertainty, and fear."

"And this dramatic change in Ministry policy," said Harry, "involves warning the Wizarding world against me instead of Voldemort?"

"That's certainly part of it," said Lupin, "and it is a masterstroke. Now that Dumbledore is dead, you — the Boy Who Lived — were sure to be the symbol and rallying point for any resistance to Voldemort. But by suggesting that you had a hand in the old hero's death, Voldemort has not only set a price upon your head, but sown doubt and fear amongst many who would have defended you.

"Meanwhile, the Ministry has started moving against Muggleborns."

Lupin pointed at the Daily Prophet.

"Look at page two."

Hermione turned the pages with a disgusted expression.

" 'Muggle-born Register,' " she read aloud. " 'The Ministry of Magic is undertaking a survey of so-called "Muggle-borns," the better to understand how they came to possess magical secrets.

" 'Recent research undertaken by the Department of Mysteries reveals that magic can only be passed from person to person when Wizards reproduce. Where no proven Wizarding ancestry exists, therefore, the so-called Muggle-born is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force.

" 'The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission.' "

Amara listened, horrified. They were rounding up Muggleborns?

"People won't let this happen," said Ron.

"It is happening, Ron," said Lupin. "Muggleborns are being rounded up as we speak."

"But how are they supposed to have 'stolen' magic?" said Ron. "It's mental, if you could steal magic there wouldn't be any Squibs, would there?"

"I know," said Lupin. "Nevertheless, unless you can prove that you have at least one close Wizarding relative, you are now deemed to have obtained your magical power illegally and must suffer the punishment."

Amara brightened slightly. "What about me, then? Tally, Jesse and Noah are all half-blood and related to me."

"They'll probably try something," said Lupin. "I'm not sure, it's rather complicated."

"Well if that fails, I can say Amara and Hermione are my cousins," said Ron, looking determined.

Amara smiled weakly at him, Hermione mirroring her.

"Thanks, Ron, but we couldn't let you —"

"You guys won't have a choice," said Ron fiercely. "I'll teach you my family tree so you can answer questions on it.

Hermione gave a shaky laugh. "Ron, as we're on the run with Harry Potter, the most wanted person in the country, I don't think it matters. If Amara and I were going back to school it would be different. What's Voldemort planning for Hogwarts?" she asked Lupin.

"Attendance is now compulsory for every young witch and wizard," he replied. "That was announced yesterday. It's a change, because it was never obligatory before. Of course, nearly every witch and wizard in Britain has been educated at Hogwarts, but their parents had the right to teach them at home or send them abroad if they preferred. This way, Voldemort will have the whole Wizarding population under his eye from a young age. And it's also another way of weeding out Muggle-borns, because students must be given Blood Status — meaning that they have proven to the Ministry that they are of Wizard descent — before they are allowed to attend."

Amara gulped, repulsed.

"It's . . . it's . . ." Harry muttered, struggling to find words.

Lupin understood, and said quietly, "I know." He then hesitated.

"I'll understand if you can't confirm this, Harry, but the Order is under the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission."

"He did," Harry replied, his face flickering ever so slightly at the mention of their mission. "and Amara, Ron and Hermione are in on it and they're coming with me."

"Can you confide in me what the mission is?"

"I can't, Remus, I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't tell you I don't think I can."

"I thought you'd say that," said Lupin, looking disappointed. "But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to."

Amara stared at him. He wanted to come with them?

"But what about Tonks?" she said at the same time as Hermione, who was looking just as puzzled as she did.

"What about her?" said Lupin.

"Well," said Hermione, frowning, "you're married! How does she feel about you going away with us?"

"Tonks will be perfectly safe," said Lupin. "She'll be at her parents' house."

But Tonks was an Auror, Amara thought. She wouldn't want to be hidden in a house, not being in the thick of it.

"Remus," said Hermione tentatively, "is everything all right . . . you know . . . between you and —"

"Everything is fine, thank you," said Lupin pointedly.

Hermione turned pink. A very awkward pause followed, filled with embarrassment.

"Tonks is going to have a baby."

"Oh, how wonderful!" squealed Hermione.

"That's amazing!" Amara said happily.

"Excellent!" said Ron enthusiastically.

"Congratulations," said Harry.

"So . . . do you accept my offer? Will four become five? I cannot believe that Dumbledore would have disapproved, he appointed me your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all. And I must tell you that I believe that we are facing magic many of us have never encountered or imagined."

Amara, Ron and Hermione both looked at Harry.

"Just — just to be clear," he said. "You want to leave Tonks at her parents' house and come away with us?"

"She'll be perfectly safe there, they'll look after her," said Lupin. He spoke with a finality bordering on indifference. "Harry, I'm sure James would have wanted me to stick with you."

"Well," said Harry slowly, "I'm not. I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually."

Amara clapped a hand on her mouth in horror. Lupin's face drained of colour. Ron looked away as Hermione looked between Harry and Lupin, terrified at the reaction.

"You don't understand," said Lupin at last.

"Explain, then," said Harry.

Lupin swallowed.

"I — I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks. I did it against my better judgment and I have regretted it very much ever since."

"I see," said Harry, "so you're just going to dump her and the kid and run off with us?"

Lupin sprang up so quickly that Amara jerked backwards. His chair clattered to the floor as he glared at them fiercely. Amara shrank back slightly, eyes wide.

"Don't you understand what I've done to my wife and my unborn child? I should never have married her, I've made her an outcast!" Lupin kicked aside the chair he had overturned. "You have only ever seen me amongst the Order, or under Dumbledore's protection at Hogwarts! You don't know how most of the Wizarding world sees creatures like me! When they know of my affliction, they can barely talk to me! Don't you see what I've done? Even her own family is disgusted by our marriage, what parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child — the child —"

Lupin actually seized handfuls of his own hair. He looked as scary as he had done when turning into a werewolf.

"My kind don't usually breed! It will be like me, I am convinced of it — how can I forgive myself, when I knowingly risked passing on my own condition to an innocent child? And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, then it will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!"

"Remus!" whispered Hermione, tears in her eyes. "Don't say that — how could any child be ashamed of you?"

"Oh, I don't know, Hermione," said Harry harshly. "I'd be pretty ashamed of him. If the new regime thinks Muggleborns are bad, what will they do to a half-werewolf whose father's in the Order? My father died trying to protect my mother and me, and you reckon he'd tell you to abandon your kid to go on an adventure with us?"

"How — how dare you?" said Lupin. "This is not about a desire for — for danger or personal glory — how dare you suggest such a —"

"I think you're feeling a bit of a daredevil," Harry said. "You fancy stepping into Sirius's shoes —"

"Harry, no!" Hermione begged him, but Harry ignored her.

"I'd never have believed this," Harry said. "The man who taught me to fight dementors — a coward."

Amara screamed as there was a loud bang and Harry flew back into the kitchen wall and sunk down. She saw Lupin sprinting from the room and ran after him.

"Remus, wait!" she yelled, sprinting up the stairs. "Come back!"

She was too late; the door slammed, and Lupin was gone.


	14. Kreacher's Return

**_Chapter Fourteen_**

 ** _Kreacher's Return_**

Amara ran back down into the kitchen.

"Harry!" Hermione was wailing. "How could you?"

"It was easy," said Harry. He stood up; he seemed to shaking, through pain or anger Amara didn't know.

"Don't look at me like that!" he snapped at Hermione.

"Don't start on her!" Amara said sharply, hands in fists. Lupin was gone … their hope of finding out more information of what was going on …

"No — no — we mustn't fight!" said Hermione, launching herself between them.

"You shouldn't have said that stuff to Lupin," Ron told Harry.

"He had it coming to him," said Harry. "Parents shouldn't leave their kids unless — unless they've got to."

"Harry —" said Hermione, stretching out a consoling hand, but he shrugged it off and walked away, his eyes on the fire Hermione had conjured. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, but Amara kept her eyes on Harry's back. Finally, he turned.

"I know I shouldn't have called him a coward."

"No, you shouldn't," said Ron at once.

"But he's acting like one."

"All the same . . ." said Hermione.

"I know," said Harry, and sounding rather pleading: "But if it makes him go back to Tonks, it'll be worth it, won't it?"

"Of course," said Amara, very quietly.

There was silence in the kitchen as the events seemed to sink in. Amara didn't know what to think. On the one hand, having Lupin with them could have been a God's send, he knew a lot, he'd _experienced_ a lot more advanced magic … and the fact that it would be a comfort added to the positive factors. However, Harry was right, even though he had had a hard way of saying it. Lupin should not be leaving his unborn child. They didn't even know if they'd be returning yet. And, there was also the fact that he was a terrifying danger once a month. He couldn't exactly leave and find them again, could he? Especially when they didn't know how long they would be staying at Grimmauld Place – not with the cloaked men outside in the square.

Amara was still contemplating these thoughts as she sunk into a chair. She looked briefly at Harry, who was obscured by the _Daily Prophet_ that Lupin had left. Harry's face stared at her and she sighed silently.

Harry hadn't grown up with his parents, and they hadn't had the choice. If Lupin could be with his child, he should. It was obvious, when she thought about it, but it didn't mean that she wasn't slightly disappointed that Lupin had run away.

There was a while of silence as Amara fiddled with her necklace and Ron and Hermione dithered slightly.

There was a loud _crack_ which made them all jump. Turning, Amara saw, with a strange leap of joy, that Kreacher had returned with a very scruffy looking man. They were having a scuffle on the floor, in which, Kreacher managed to extract himself and bow low toward Harry.

"Kreacher has returned with the thief Mundungus Fletcher, Master."

Mundungus Fletcher – still as disgusting and grubby as ever – attempting to pick himself up and reach for his wand. Amara attempted to wrench hers out, but Hermione got there first.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

Amara caught the wand as it descended, grinning at Hermione.

Mundungus, seemingly still attempting to flee, dived for the stairs but was caught when Ron tackled ihm to the floor. With a yell, he hit the floor and stayed there, panting, as Ron remained firm. Amara glared at him, suddenly furious. She'd seen this piece of filth Apparate away from the broomstick and allowed Mad-Eye to die.

"What?" he bellowed, writhing in his attempts to free himself from Ron's grip. "Wha've I done? Setting a bleedin' 'ouse-elf on me, what are you playing at, wha've I done, lemme go, lemme go, or —"

"You're not in much of a position to make threats," said Harry. Standing, he threw the newspaper he had hidden behind aside, stalking up to the wild man on the floor. Kneeling so he was the same height as Mundungus – who had become very still and frightened – he drew his wand and pointed it directly at his horrible nose. Ron retracted himself as Amara and Hermione came over as well. Amara shoved Mundungus' wand in her pocket, but kept her own out. .

"Kreacher apologizes for the delay in bringing the thief, Master," croaked the elf. "Fletcher knows how to avoid capture, has many hidey-holes and accomplices. Nevertheless, Kreacher cornered the thief in the end."

"You've done really well, Kreacher," said Harry, and the elf bowed low.

"Right, we've got a few questions for you," Harry told Mundungus, who shouted at once,

"I panicked, okay? I never wanted to come along, no offense, mate, but I never volunteered to die for you, an' that was bleedin' You-Know-Who come flying at me, anyone woulda got outta there, I said all along I didn't wanna do it —"

"Doesn't mean you had to Disapparate," snarled Amara.

"None of _us_ did," Hermione said.

"Well, you're a bunch of bleedin' 'eroes then, aren't you, but I never pretended I was up for killing meself —"

"We're not interested in why you ran out on Mad-Eye," said Harry, moving his wand a little closer to Mundungus's baggy, bloodshot eyes. "We already knew you were an unreliable bit of scum."

"Well then, why the 'ell am I being 'unted down by 'ouse-elves? Or is this about them goblets again? I ain't got none of 'em left, or you could 'ave 'em —"

"It's not about the goblets either, although you're getting warmer," said Harry. "Shut up and listen."

"Sirius never cared about any of the junk —"

His comment was cut off as Kreacher came forward to hit him over the head with a saucepan. Mundungus shrieked, cowering away as Kreacher went in for more blows.

"Call 'im off, call 'im off, 'e should be locked up!" screamed Mundungus.

"Kreacher, no!" shouted Harry.

Kreacher's thin arms trembled with the weight of the pan, still held aloft.

"Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?"

Ron laughed and Amara snorted.

"We need him conscious, Kreacher, but if he needs persuading you can do the honours," said Harry.

"Thank you very much, Master," said Kreacher with a bow, and he retreated a short distance, his great pale eyes still fixed upon Mundungus with loathing.

"When you stripped this house of all the valuables you could find," Harry tried again, "you took a bunch of stuff from the kitchen cupboard. There was a locket there. What did you do with it?"

"Why?" asked Mundungus. "Is it valuable?"

"You've still got it!" cried Hermione.

"No, he hasn't," said Ron shrewdly. "He's wondering whether he should have asked more money for it."

"More?" said Mundungus. "That wouldn't have been effing difficult . . . bleedin' gave it away, di'n' I? No choice."

"What do you mean?"

"I was selling in Diagon Alley and she come up to me and asks if I've got a license for trading in magical artifacts. Bleedin' snoop. She was gonna fine me, but she took a fancy to the locket an' told me she'd take it and let me off that time, and to fink meself lucky."

"Who was this woman?" asked Harry.

"I dunno, some Ministry hag." Mundungus considered for a moment, brow wrinkled. "Little woman. Bow on top of 'er head." He frowned and then added, "Looked like a toad."

Harry dropped his wand: It hit Mundungus on the nose and shot red sparks into his eyebrows, which ignited.

" _Aguamenti!"_ screamed Hermione, and a jet of water streamed from her wand, engulfing a spluttering and choking Mundungus.

Amara stared at Harry in shock at what Mundungus had just revealed. This was not going to be good, at _all._

-OOOOO-

At least now they had something to do. They were no longer lying around examining what Dumbledore had left them; they had a plan.

Dolores Umbridge now had the Horcrux they needed, and the only way of getting it off her was infiltrating the Ministry of Magic and taking it from her. This, in itself, was crazy. Going into the place that was so dangerous _and_ trying to steal something was the most insane thing they'd decided to do.

The day after Kreacher had brought Mundungus to Grimmauld Place they set their plan into motion. Every day they positioned themselves on the entrance to the Ministry of Magic, which Ron had known from Mr Weasley. They went alone, using the Invisibility Cloak, trying to eavesdrop on conversations and steal the _Daily Prophet_ if they could.

Meanwhile, back at Grimmauld Place, Kreacher had cleaned the kitchen so well it was now unrecognisable, and cooked them food every day. Their spirits had soared and they had put all their efforts into getting as much information as possible. Amara had managed to draw a good few maps of the Ministry, from what they already knew, and what they had figured out.

Copious amounts of notes littered the table in the kitchen, and the stack of _Daily Prophets_ began to rise as the month went on.

Toward the end of the month, it was Amara's turn to go and keep lookout. It was a boring job, really, when all you heard were snippets of pointless gossip or information they had already got. Mostly it was whispered complaints about how the Ministry was running – one dumpy witch had been told off by her friend for speaking too loud about how her "Death Eater boss" was making her do some awful work.

They attempted to stay for at least the hours of the day, having been given lunch graciously by Kreacher, but it was still rather dull as they tried not to wriggle too much and dislodge the invisibility cloak. Just before she was going to go home, a Ministry worker left and dumped the _Daily Prophet_ in the bin near where Amara was hiding. Seconds later, it was in her hands.

On the second page, her heart dropped and she Apparated back to Grimmauld Place as quick as she could. It was getting rather difficult now that the cloaked figures were gaining in number and were constantly watching them. Luckily, Amara managed to do it quite well and she burst into the house as quickly as she could.

 _"Severus Snape?"_

"I didn't kill you," Amara said impatiently and ran into the kitchen.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were studying one of Amara's maps when she entered and dropped the _Daily Prophet,_ open on page two, onto them all.

"We're in here!" she said breathlessly. "Look!"

She jabbed a finger on the page.

 ** _THE MUGGLEBORN REGISTRATION COMMISSION:_**

 ** _Muggleborns who have not presented themselves at the Ministry of Magic_**

'Granger, Hermione' was there. 'Matthews, Amara', 'Matthews, Ethan' and 'Matthews, Tessie' were further down the page.

"Merlin," said Ron, dropping the quill he was holding and grabbing the _Daily Prophet_ as though he didn't believe her. "What are we going to do?"

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Well, you two can't come to the Ministry –"

"Don't be stupid," said Amara immediately. "We're not sitting here whilst you two go off."

"But –"

"We're going!" Amara said, loudly. "In case you haven't noticed, Ethan and Tessie are on this list too, and I wouldn't put it past the Death Eaters not to send some over to France, whether they're pretending to go to Beauxbatons or not."

Ron seemed keen to keep saying Amara and Hermione shouldn't go with them; they shot him down every time, however, even when Ron said he'd promised Fred to look after Amara. At this, she'd rolled her eyes.

They managed to get insights of the goings on in the Ministry as August began to fade away; on the first of September, Harry came into the kitchen with a grim look on his face.

"I've got news, and you won't like it."

"What's happened?" Ron asked apprehensively as Kreacher took the Cloak of Harry. Harry walked forward and dumped the _Daily Prophet_ on the table. Leaning forwards, Amara saw a picture of a familiar, hook-nosed, black-haired man staring at them. She recoiled at the title:

 ** _SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER_**

"No!" said Amara, Ron and Hermione loudly.

Hermione was quickest; she snatched up the newspaper and began to read the accompanying story out loud.

 _" 'Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor._

 _" 'I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest Wizarding traditions and values —'_ Like committing murder and cutting off people's ears, I suppose! Snape, headmaster! Snape in Dumbledore's study — Merlin's pants!" she shrieked, making Amara, Harry and Ron jump. She leapt up from the table and hurtled from the room, shouting as she went, "I'll be back in a minute!"

" 'Merlin's pants'?" repeated Ron, looking amused. "She must be upset." He pulled the newspaper toward him and perused the article about Snape.

"The other teachers won't stand for this. McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout all know the truth, they know how Dumbledore died. They won't accept Snape as headmaster. And who are these Carrows?"

"Death Eaters," said Harry. "There are pictures of them inside. They were at the top of the tower when Snape killed Dumbledore, so it's all friends together. And," Harry went on bitterly, drawing up a chair, "I can't see that the other teachers have got any choice but to stay. If the Ministry and Voldemort are behind Snape it'll be a choice between staying and teaching, or a nice few years in Azkaban — and that's if they're lucky. I reckon they'll stay to try and protect the students."

Kreacher came bustling to the table with a large tureen in his hands, and ladled out soup into pristine bowls, whistling between his teeth as he did so.

"Thanks, Kreacher," said Harry, flipping over the _Prophet_. "Well, at least we know exactly where Snape is now."

Amara began eating her soup carefully, thinking the news over in her mind.

"There are still a load of Death Eaters watching the house," Harry told her and Ron as they ate, "more than usual. It's like they're hoping we'll march out carrying our school trunks and head off for the Hogwarts Express."

Ron glanced at his watch.

"I've been thinking about that all day. It left nearly six hours ago. Weird, not being on it, isn't it?"

"Really weird," Amara agreed. This time last year – this time for the past six years – they'd been on that train. "I wonder why more of them are standing out there, though. DO you think they've figured we're not in other places?"

"Probably," shrugged Ron, looking vaguely concerned but more focused on his soup. "But they have no evidence we _are_ here."

"Well, they nearly saw me coming back in just now," Harry said. "I landed badly on the top step, and the Cloak slipped."

"I do that every time. Oh, here she is," Ron added, craning around in his seat to watch Hermione re-entering the kitchen. "And what in the name of Merlin's most baggy Y Fronts was that about?"

"I remembered this," Hermione panted.

She was carrying a large, framed picture, which she lowered to the floor before seizing her small, beaded bag from the kitchen sideboard. She shoved it, with difficulty, inside.

"Phineas Nigellus," Hermione explained as she threw the bag onto the kitchen table with an almighty, unnatural clash.

"Sorry?" said Ron, but Harry and Amara exchanged knowing glances.

"Snape could send Phineas Nigellus to look inside this house for him," Hermione explained to Ron as she resumed her seat. "But let him try it now, all Phineas Nigellus will be able to see is the inside of my handbag."

"Good thinking!" said Ron, looking impressed.

"Thank you," smiled Hermione, pulling her soup toward her. "So, Harry, what else happened today?"

"Nothing," said Harry. "Watched the Ministry entrance for seven hours. No sign of her. Saw your dad, though, Ron. He looks fine." Ron nodded his appreciation of this news. They had agreed that it was far too dangerous to try and communicate with Mr Weasley. They'd also, much to Hermione and Amara's displeasure, decided against communicating with Jesse and Adrien, who also used that way to work. Hermione was relieved yet distressed at the sight of her boyfriend.

"Dad always told us most Ministry people use the Floo Network to get to work," Ron said. "That's why we haven't seen Umbridge, she'd never walk, she'd think she's too important."

"And what about that funny old witch and that little wizard in the navy robes?" Hermione asked.

"Oh yeah, the bloke from Magical Maintenance," said Ron.

"How do you know he works for Magical Maintenance?" Hermione asked, freezing in her soup eating movements.

"Dad said everyone from Magical Maintenance wears navy blue robes."

"But you never told us that!"

Hermione dropped her spoon and pulled toward her the sheaf of notes and maps they'd been examining.

"There's nothing in here about navy blue robes, _nothing_!" she said, flipping feverishly through the pages.

"Well, does it really matter?"

"Ron, it _all_ matters! If we're going to get into the Ministry and not give ourselves away when they're _bound_ to be on the lookout for intruders, every little detail matters! We've been over and over this, I mean, what's the point of all these reconnaissance trips if you aren't even bothering to tell us —"

"Blimey, Hermione, I forget one little thing —"

"You do realize, don't you, that there's probably no more dangerous place in the whole world for us to be right now than the Ministry of —"

"I think we should do it tomorrow," said Harry.

Amara stared at him as Ron choked on his soup. Amara clapped him on the back as she continued to stare at Harry.

"Tomorrow?" repeated Hermione, sounding like she swallowed something large and uncomfortable. "You aren't serious, Harry?"

"I am," said Harry. "I don't think we're going to be much better prepared than we are now even if we skulk around the Ministry entrance for another month. The longer we put it off, the farther away that locket could be. There's already a good chance Umbridge has chucked it away; the thing doesn't open."

"Unless," said Ron, "she's found a way of opening it and she's now possessed."

"Wouldn't make any difference to her, she was so evil in the first place," Harry shrugged.

"Are you sure?" said Amara worriedly. "I mean, there's so much to know!"

"We know everything important," Harry said. "We know they've stopped Apparition in and out of the Ministry. We know only the most senior Ministry members are allowed to connect their homes to the Floo Network now, because Ron heard those two Unspeakables complaining about it. And we know roughly where Umbridge's office is, because of what you heard that bearded bloke saying to his mate —"

" _'I'll be up on level one, Dolores wants to see me_ ,' " Hermione recited immediately.

"Exactly," said Harry. "And we know you get in using those funny coins, or tokens, or whatever they are, because I saw that witch borrowing one from her friend —"

"But we haven't got any!"

"If the plan works, we will have," Harry continued calmly.

"I don't know, Harry, I don't know. . . . There are an awful lot of things that could go wrong, so much relies on chance. . . ."

"That'll be true even if we spend another three months preparing," said Harry. "It's time to act."

Amara bit her lip. They did have the right information … and another month would probably get no more knowledge. But the thought of actually _doing_ the plan was a very scary thought. Though they'd been to the Ministry before, this was a whole other operation. For one, it would actually be busy _and_ they had to pretend to be other people.

"All right," said Ron slowly, "let's say we go for it tomorrow. . . I think it should just be me and Harry."

"Oh, don't start that again!" sighed Hermione. "I thought we'd settled this."

"It's one thing hanging around the entrances under the Cloak, but this is different, Hermione." Ron jabbed a finger at the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that Amara had got ten days before. "You and Amara are on the list of Muggleborns who didn't present themselves for interrogation!"

"And you're supposed to be dying of spattergroit at the Burrow! If anyone shouldn't go, it's Harry, he's got a ten-thousand-Galleon price on his head —"

"Fine, I'll stay here," said Harry. "Let me know if you ever defeat Voldemort, won't you?"

Amara laughed along with Ron and Hermione. Harry rubbed his forehead.

"Well, if all four of us go we'll have to Disapparate separately," Ron said. "We can't all fit under the Cloak anymore."

"What about if I take you with a Disillusionment charm and Hermione takes Harry under the Cloak? That'll save time, and it'll only be for a moment," said Amara, watching Harry as he suddenly stood up.

"That's a good idea," said Hermione, who was watching Harry too. They all followed him with their eyes as he left the room quickly. Amara knew that they were preoccupied with the fact Harry's scar was hurting again.

"Do you think –" Ron started after a few minutes pause. He broke off, however, when there were shouts coming from above them. Harry was yelling so loudly that even Kreacher looked distinctly alarmed.

Amara, Ron and Hermione ran out the room and up to the first floor bathroom. Amara pounded on the door.

"Harry! _Harry!_ Open the door!"

Amara nearly fell over when the door was yanked open by Harry a second later. He was very pale.

"What were you doing?" asked Hermione sternly as they all crowded in, looking around.

"What d'you think I was doing?" asked Harry.

"You were yelling your head off!" said Ron.

"Oh yeah . . . I must've dozed off or —"

"Harry, please don't insult our intelligence," said Hermione, taking deep breaths. "We know your scar hurt downstairs, and you're white as a sheet."

Harry sat down on the edge of the bath.

"Fine. I've just seen Voldemort murdering a woman. By now he's probably killed her whole family. And he didn't need to. It was Cedric all over again, they were just _there_ . . ." Amara flinched at her old boyfriend's name.

"Harry, you aren't supposed to let this happen anymore!" Hermione cried. "Dumbledore wanted you to use Occlumency! He thought the connection was dangerous — Voldemort can _use_ it, Harry! What good is it to watch him kill and torture, how can it help?"

"Because it means I know what he's doing," said Harry.

"So you're not even going to _try_ to shut him out?"

"Hermione, I can't. You know I'm lousy at Occlumency, I never got the hang of it."

"You never really tried!" she said hotly. "I don't get it, Harry — do you _like_ having this special connection or relationship or what — whatever —"

Hermione faltered as Harry glared at her, standing up.

"Like it?" he said quietly. "Would you like it?"

"I — no — I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean —"

"I hate it, I hate the fact that he can get inside me, that I have to watch him when he's most dangerous. But I'm going to use it."

"Dumbledore —"

"Forget Dumbledore. This is my choice, nobody else's. I want to know why he's after Gregorovitch."

"Who?"

"He's a foreign wandmaker," said Harry. "He made Krum's wand and Krum reckons he's brilliant."

"But according to you," said Ron, "Voldemort's got Ollivander locked up somewhere. If he's already got a wandmaker, what does he need another one for?"

"Maybe he agrees with Krum, maybe he thinks Gregorovitch is better . . . or else he thinks Gregorovitch will be able to explain what my wand did when he was chasing me, because Ollivander didn't know."

Hermione and Ron exchanged looks, but Amara did not join them. She always hated the little looks they gave each other. She had no reason not to believe that Harry's wand did something of its own accord, no matter what Hermione and Ron wanted to believe.

"Harry, you keep talking about what your wand did," said Hermione, "but you made it happen! Why are you so determined not to take responsibility for your own power?"

"Because I know it wasn't me! And so does Voldemort, Hermione! We both know what really happened!"

Hermione and Harry glared at each other. Amara stood unsurely to the side, looking at Ron for help.

"Drop it," Ron said to Hermione. "It's up to him. And if we're going to the Ministry tomorrow, don't you reckon we should go over the plan?"

Hermione and Ron left the bathroom to head back down to the kitchen. Amara remained with Harry, who was splashing cold water on his face.

"If Voldemort knows the wand acted by itself, then that's worrying," said Amara once the other two had vanished. "I've never heard of Gregorovitch before. I wonder if he does know the reason why it happened? After all, if Ollivander didn't know, it could be something unique."

"There must be an explanation," said Harry as they left. He still looked faintly angry. "Or else it wouldn't've happened."

Kreacher gave them stew and treacle tart for dinner, which they ate gratefully whilst going over the plans for the next day. They went over it so much that it was well past midnight before they all went up to bed. Hermione and Amara were staying in the room she and Tally had stayed in, with Ron next door and Harry in Sirius's old bedroom. Hermione was muttering the whole time they were getting changed, and Amara found herself reciting lists of what they needed for tomorrow. She hoped it went smoothly.

-OOOOO-

The next morning, they were all up early. Amara had not had that much sleep, due to going over the plan in her mind and the fact that Hermione had been tossing and turning all night in the bed next to her.

Kreacher gave them hot rolls and coffee when they entered the kitchen, which Amara took with relish. As a second thought, she conjured a flask and shoved some coffee and rolls in the beaded bag when Hermione was preoccupied with the sheafs of plans.

Ron and Harry came in, both yawning slightly, as Hermione did a bag check.

"Robes," she said under her breath, "Polyjuice Potion . . . Invisibility Cloak . . . Decoy Detonators . . . You should each take a couple just in case. . . . Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Nougat, Extendable Ears . . . Amara, why is there coffee and rolls in here?"

"In case we get hungry," said Amara innocently as Ron and Harry snorted into their breakfasts.

When they were done they headed into the hall toward the front door. Hermione and Harry went first; Amara followed with Ron and a nicely done Disillusionment charm on them both. After Apparating and removing the Charm, they found themselves in a tiny alleyway where Ministry Workers turned up after eight o'clock.

"Right then," said Hermione, checking her watch. "She ought to be here in about five minutes. When I've Stunned her —"

"Hermione, we know," said Ron sternly. "And I thought we were supposed to open the door before she got here?"

Hermione squealed.

"I nearly forgot! Stand back —"

She pointed her wand at the padlocked and heavily graffitied fire door beside them, which burst open with a crash. Hermione pulled the door back toward her, to make it look as though it was still closed.

"And now," she said, turning back to face the other three in the alleyway, "we put on the Cloak again —"

"— and we wait," Ron finished, throwing it over Hermione's head and rolling his eyes at Harry and Amara.

There was the unmistakeable noise of Apparation and a little witch that Amara had tailed one afternoon appeared in view. Not a moment later she was unconscious and was being dragged into the fire escape.

Hermione plucked a few hairs from the witch's head and added them to a flask of muddy Polyjuice Potion she had taken from the beaded bag. Ron was rummaging through the little witch's handbag.

"She's Mafalda Hopkirk," he said, reading a small card that identified their victim as an assistant in the Improper Use of Magic Office. "You'd better take this, Hermione, and here are the tokens."

Hermione drank the Polyjuice Potion, which was now a pleasant heliotrope colour, and within seconds stood before them, the double of Mafalda Hopkirk. As she removed Mafalda's spectacles and put them on, Harry checked his watch.

"We're running late, Mr Magical Maintenance will be here any second."

The shoved the door closed and put the Cloak over the three of them, leaving the now Mafalda-Hermione to wait.

"Oh, hello, Mafalda," said the ferrety man who had just arrived.

"Hello!" said Hermione in a quivery voice. "How are you today?"

"Not so good, actually," replied the little wizard, who looked thoroughly downcast.

As Hermione and the wizard headed for the main road, Amara, Harry and Ron crept along behind them.

"I'm sorry to hear you're under the weather," said Hermione, as the little wizard tried to explain his problems. Hermione reached for a bag, containing puking pastilles, and offered it. "Here, have a sweet."

"Eh? Oh, no thanks —"

"I insist!" said Hermione aggressively, shaking the bag of pastilles in his face. In any other situation, Amara would have laughed at how alarmed the little wizard took as he accepted one. The Puking Pastille worked immediately, and Amara wrinkled her nose in distaste as the wizard threw up.

"Oh dear!" Hermione said, as he splattered the alley with sick. Amara had to admire Fred and George's work. "Perhaps you'd better take the day off!"

"No — no!" He choked and retched, trying to continue on his way despite being unable to walk straight. "I must — today — must go —"

"But that's just silly!" said Hermione, alarmed. "You can't go to work in this state — I think you ought to go to St. Mungo's and get them to sort you out!"

The wizard had collapsed, heaving, onto all fours, still trying to crawl toward the main street.

"You simply can't go to work like this!" cried Hermione.

The man finally decided to heed Hermione's advice and Apparated away, just in time for Ron to grab his bag.

"Urgh," said Hermione, holding up the skirts of her robe to avoid the puddles of sick. "It would have made much less mess to Stun him too."

"Yeah," said Ron, emerging from under the cloak holding the wizard's bag, "but I still think a whole pile of unconscious bodies would have drawn more attention. Keen on his job, though, isn't he? Chuck us the hair and the potion, then."

Within two minutes, Ron stood before them, as small and ferrety as the sick wizard, and wearing the navy blue robes that had been folded in his bag.

"Weird he wasn't wearing them today, wasn't it, seeing how much he wanted to go? Anyway, I'm Reg Cattermole, according to the label in the back."

"Now wait here," Hermione told Amara and Harry, who were still under the Invisibility Cloak, "and we'll be back with some hairs for the both of you."

It took ages, in Amara and Harry's eyes, but it was only about fifteen minutes before Ron and Hermione came hurrying back into the sick splattered alleyway.

"Amara, we've got you some hairs from a woman named Ophelia Porpington, she seems to be in the Floo Network Authority. Anyway, she went home because she fainted ..." Amara took the auburn hairs off Hermione and dropped them into her batch of polyjuice potion. It turned a nice sort of blue.

"We don't know who he is," Hermione said, passing Harry several curly black hairs, "but he's gone home with a dreadful nosebleed! Here, he's pretty tall, you'll need bigger robes. . . ."

She pulled out a set of the old robes Kreacher had laundered for them, and Amara and Harry retired to take the potion and change.

Amara emerged first, now a good few inches taller than usual, with auburn hair above her shoulders. It was all very strange, especially when seeing Harry emerge, now six foot tall and rather scary.

"Blimey, that's scary," said Ron, looking up at Harry, who now towered over him.

"Take one of Mafalda's tokens," Hermione told Harry, "Amara, there's some in Ophelia's bag. Let's go, it's nearly nine."

They found two flights of steps, one for gentlemen and one for ladies. They looked like underground toilets. Splitting from Harry and Ron, Amara and Hermione went down into the ladies, following several others.

All the women seemed to be entering cubicles using the golden tokens. Hermione and Amara followed suit and went into adjacent ones.

Peering into Hermione's cubicle, she gazed at her.

"What're we meant to do?" she hissed.

"I think we flush ourselves in," whispered Hermione, looking terrified.

"Right," Amara stood up and climbed into the toilet. She was quite dry, and, after hearing Hermione's toilet flush, she followed.

Seconds later, she was in a fireplace in the Ministry of Magic. They were in.


End file.
